Howard's Best Friend?
by xelectrogirlx
Summary: Vince and Howard have moved out of the Nabootique to a flat of their own. Everything is going well until Howard's best mate arrives to stay with them from Leeds... contains angst...
1. Chapter 1

**Howard's Best Friend?**

**Disclaimer** I do not own any of the characters used in this fic, they belong to Noel and Julian and the BBC3.

Vince was sat at his dressing table, carefully sorting his hair products and make-up. He was proud of his dressing table. It was large and plain white, the sort you'd probably buy from IKEA, but he'd customised it to suit his own tastes. That's why there was a bright blue feather boa draped around its frame, and photos stuck on with blu-tack around the edge. Some of them were from genius nights out in Dalston, him and Leroy mugging for the camera, him and various Camden dolly birds posing for all their might. But the ones that took pride of place were the ones of him and his best mate Howard, taken at the Zoo where they used to work. Vince looked up from sorting his hairspray cans, and grinned happily as his eye fell on a picture taken just outside the ocelot pit. Howard had a rare smile gracing his features, which made his brown eyes twinkle. Vince had an arm thrown around his shoulders, the other hand fluffing up his golden brown hair.

He finished arranging the products to his satisfaction, blew himself a cheeky kiss into the mirror, and bounded out of the room. Howard was sat on the sofa, watching a documentary about some obscure type of caterpillar. Since the disastrous incident with Jurgen Haarbermaster, he'd stopped watching documentaries about film makers, preferring the infinitely more pleasurable animal programmes. He looked up as Vince bounced in.

"Hey little man. Fancy a cuppa?"

Vince grinned as he recognised Howard's old nickname for him. It was ages since he'd called him that.

"Sure, cheers Howard."

Vince watched affectionately as Howard heaved himself up off the sofa and started padding around the small kitchen area, boiling the kettle and getting their personalised mugs out. Vince's was bright gold with a large, glittery red 'V' embellished on its side. Howard's was a muted shade of green with a sludgy brown 'H'.

Once he'd finished making the tea, Howard came back to sit next to Vince on the sofa and handed him his cup. Vince took a sip. It was perfect, just as he liked it. Three sugars and quite a bit of milk. Usually Howard didn't take this much care over his tea.

They watched the television in companionable silence for a while. Vince glanced over at Howard, and to his surprise, saw that his best mate's features were knotted together, as though he were frowning over a rather problematical maths equation.

"You alright Howard?" Howard flicked his eyes towards Vince, and nodded vaguely.

"Oh yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He turned his eyes back towards the television and then turned back to Vince again so suddenly it made Vince start.

"Actually, I've got a favour to ask you."

"Riiight." A favour to ask Vince? Usually it was the other way around. 'Howard, can you pick me up from the high street?' 'Howard, can you nip down Costcutter and get us some crisps?' 'Howard...?' 'Howard...?'

"Um, well." Whatever it was he wanted to say, it looked like Howard was having some trouble finding the words. "You know now that we've moved out from the shop, we've got more space? Our own rooms?"

"Um, yeah."

"Right, yes. Well. The thing is..."

"Just spit it out Howard, yeah?"

"Pete wants to come stay with us for a while." Howard blurted it out so fast, it took Vince's poor singlular brain cell a while to comprehend what he'd said.

"Pete?"

"Yeah, you know, my best mate back in Leeds." Vince frowned in thought as he tried to drag the memory into his head. It took a while, and when it did come, he wasn't particularly pleased.

"Pete Moss? The guy who visited us that one time in the Zoo?"

"_Vince, meet Pete. Pete, this is Vince. My assistant zookeeper."_

_Vince glanced up from the bucket of feed he was sorting, and beamed his mega-watt smile in Pete's direction._

"_Hey Pete, I'm Vince." Vince held out his hand, and Pete glanced at it, and then completely ignored him. He also didn't crack a smile, rather looked a little disgusted._

"_Yeeahh. So Howard, how's it going? Fancy coming to a club tonight? Rave it up a little? I gotta be back early tomorrow, make it a good night, eh?" Vince thought he must be hearing things. Howard? Howard Moon? At a club? Had he heard this guy right? But to his surprise Howard was nodding, if not eagerly, then at least in agreement._

"_Sure, that'd be great Pete. It'd be nice to catch up." Vince almost fell over with shock, but he thought he covered it up well. Despite the failure of his initial attempt to make friends, he found himself having another stab at it, for Howard's sake._

"_A club? I know all the cool places round here. I'll come with you, yeah?" Pete looked at Vince disdainfully._

"_Erm, actually, Vinny..."_

"_Vince."_

"_Right. Actually I wanna catch up with just Howard. You know what I'm saying?" Vince didn't, and glanced at Howard, who was now staring fixedly at the ground._

"_Oh. Okay. Sure, yeah, no problem. You guys have a great night."_

"_Whatever. Gimme a call later, Howard."_

_And with that Pete walked off, not bothering to say goodbye._

"_What was all that about?" Vince asked, his big blue eyes a little confused._

"_Aw, don't worry little man. Pete's just a little shy. Takes him a while to open up."_

_Shy. Right. _

So this was why Vince wasn't particularly happy at the idea of Pete coming to stay with him and Howard in Dalston.

"A while? How long is a while, Howard?"

"Well you know. However long he wants to really. I mean, there is enough space, and you guys seemed to get on great last time you met." Was Howard crazy? Get on great?

"Howard, he barely spoke to me, and when he did he got my name wrong."

"Yeah, you see the thing about Pete is he's just a little..."

"...shy. Right."

"It'll be great, little man. You'll see."

And so Vince decided he'd make an effort. He really would. After all, he knew Pete was important to Howard. They'd been practically next-door-neighbours in Leeds. Although Pete seemed very, very different to Howard. He had no interest whatsoever in jazz, preferring RnB and HipHop. His head was shaven, and in one ear he had a large diamond earring. He was what might commonly be referred to as a 'geezer'. And Vince had got the definite impression that Pete really, really didn't like him. He couldn't understand why. Everyone liked him. He was the sunshine kid. Oh well. He'd put his personal feelings aside. Pete was important to Howard, therefore he was important to Vince as well.

Howard would probably never know how much Vince adored him. Although he dressed like a blind hermit, and wouldn't know style if it hit him round the face with the latest copy of Cheekbone, he was the brightest thing in Vince's life. Just the sight of him was enough to bring a happy smile to Vince's perfect features. And not a mocking smile either. Howard had always been there for him. And if being there for Howard in return meant welcoming Pete with open arms, well, then Vince would gladly do it.

Boy was he going to regret it.

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"Howard, just chill out! The flat looks fine!" Howard turned around and glared at Vince with something almost akin to hatred in his eyes.

"No, actually, Vince. It does _not_ look fine. It looks so far from fine it's not even funny. The washing up isn't done, the carpet needs hoovering, the bathroom's a _state_, thanks to you and your beauty products..." Howard clamped a hand to his brown curls in total frustration. Vince sat, perched on the end of his bed, slim legs clad in pale grey skinnies drawn up to his chin, his eyes slightly darkened with confusion and hurt.

"But, Howard, I cleaned the bathroom last week. I did!"

"Yes Vince, but it's dirty again now, and it's me who's got to clear it up. It's alright for you, never bothering to lift a finger around here apart from when it suits you. Pete's arriving in _literally minutes_ and you're not doing anything to help." Vince was hurt and upset, however he felt a small flame of anger rise up inside him.

"Actually Howard, I dusted this morning, I took the bins out..." Howard almost screamed in frustration.

"Oh yes, right, Vince! And where exactly did you put this binbag? Out in the wrong place again? You _know_ the problem we had with urban foxes... this is just totally like you, ignoring everything I say..." Vince was furious, but he somehow managed to keep his volatile temper in check, realising that Howard was probably just anxious because his friend was arriving soon.

"No, actually I put in the DRA. You know? The Designated Refuse Area. I know I'm not as clever as you, Howard, but I do listen to what you say sometimes. I'm not a complete idiot."

"Could have fooled me."

Howard's three words came sharp as a whipcrack through the air. He couldn't believe he'd said them. That was _way_ out of order, and he knew it. What was a million times worse was seeing the look on Vince's face. Howard knew he had been overdoing it a little about the cleaning, yet Vince had held onto his temper, and for that Howard was grateful. It wouldn't do for two of them to get worked up about Pete's arrival. The look on Vince's face now was just total... defeat. Almost, acceptance? Acceptance of what? With a horribly unpleasant twist in his gut, Howard realised that he had single-handedly knocked all the life out of Vince's features. His gorgeous big blue eyes were dull, as they stared at the floor.

Vince summoned up all his strength. He would _not_ cry. So what that Howard had just ripped out his heart and trampled on it with all his might? Vince had made a really big effort to clean the flat ready for Pete's arrival, but God knows why. The guy made Vince uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. Vince was really proud of his efforts with the cleaning, and he'd felt happy doing it, knowing he was doing something to help out Howard. And now Howard had just thrown it all back into his face. Something inside of Vince twisted and broke, just slightly. A prickling at the back of his eyes warned him in advance, and he quickly pasted a large smile on his face. Casually he fluffed his jet-black, silken hair out of his eyes and turned away from Howard with a sigh. With a very convincing air of nonchalance Vince sauntered out of the bedroom with a muttered,

"Whatever Howard." As soon as he got to the bathroom he locked the door, and sank down to the cold, tiled floor, head in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hey all, thanks so much for all the lovely reviews! I have a fairly clear idea of where this story is going, so updates should be fairly regular. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything... Mighty Boosh belongs to Noel/Julian/BBC3 etc...**

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Vince wasn't entirely sure how long he sat on the cold bathroom tiles but it seemed like years. Howard's words were still whirling round and round in his head:

'_It's alright for you never bothering to lift a finger... this is just totally like you, ignoring everything I say...'_

'_...I'm not a complete idiot.'_

'_Could have fooled me.'_

Eventually Vince heaved his slender body off the floor and peered into the mirror over the sink. Thank God he hadn't cried, apart from being babyish and embarrassing, it would have wrecked his make-up. Vince didn't cry easily. Sometimes he wept in frustration when Topshop closed early, or he couldn't find the _perfect_ hat to wear with an outfit, but they weren't proper tears. In fact, Vince couldn't remember the last time he'd cried because he was miserable. That was probably because Vince was _never_ miserable, he was the Sunshine Kid who brightened up the world around him. Or so he was forever being told.

Just as he was root-boosting his hair again he heard a small tap on the outside of the bathroom door. He froze, mid-boost. He'd thought Howard had gone out it had been so quiet in the rest of the flat. The tap came again.

'Vince...?'

Howard stood outside the closed bathroom door, leaning his head against the panelled wood. After Vince had stalked off he'd stumbled into his bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed, thinking. He shouldn't have said those things to Vince. Okay, so maybe some of them were true, but he had made an effort today to clean up. And calling Vince an idiot was totally unforgivable. After a while of mentally kicking himself he'd tiptoed out of the bedroom, past the still-closed bathroom door, and gone into their kitchen area.

Making himself and Vince a cup of tea, he'd looked out of the window and seen, there right in the middle of the DRA, the binbags taken out from this morning. Right where Vince had said he'd put them.

'Crap,' Howard muttered to himself. It seems that for once Vince had actually listened to him after the incident with the urban foxes. Steeling himself he'd grabbed Vince's cup of tea and headed over to the bathroom.

'Vince? Come on, open up. I've made you a cup of tea.'

Silence.

'Vince, look. I'm really sorry about what I said. I really don't think you're an idiot at all, and I saw the binbags. Thank you.'

Slowly the lock was drawn back from the other side of the door and Vince peeked out. Howard thrust the steaming cup of tea towards him, as a peace offering.

'Come on little man. Let's watch some tele, eh? Pete doesn't get here until this evening. I guess I was exaggerating _slightly_.'

A few minutes later Vince and Howard were both curled up on the sofa, watching MTV (Vince had insisted and Howard didn't feel he was in a position to argue.) Although the words spoken would never be forgotten, Vince had clearly forgiven Howard after a suitable amount of abject grovelling on the bigger man's behalf.

'Howard?'

'Mmm-hmm?'

'Tell me about Pete. You never really mentioned him much at the Zoo.'

'Well, what do you want to know?'

Vince shrugged, ruffling his dark hair with one hand. 'I dunno. The usual things. How you met, when you became friends, stuff like that really.'

Howard thought for a little bit. 'Okay. Well Pete lived a couple of doors down from me in Leeds. When his family moved in, my mum made me go and welcome them to the street, all that sort of thing. I guess my family and his thought it would be a good thing if we were friends, so we were sort of thrown together from the start. We got on quite well actually. I was always a lot more introverted than...'

'Intro-what?'

Howard sighed. 'Introverted. Sort of means shy.'

'Oh right.'

'And Pete was always quite outgoing and boistrous. We're very different but for some reason it worked.'

Vince was quiet for a few minutes. 'But when he came to the Zoo and was totally off with me, you told me that _he_ was shy.'

'Well he is, little man, around people he hasn't met before. It'll be completely different this time. You don't have to worry about it. I mean for goodness sake, who _doesn't_ like you?'

Vince grinned cheekily. 'That's true.' He watched the tele for a few more minutes and then exclaimed in horror,

'Oh my God, Pete doesn't like jazz too, does he?'

Howard laughed and ruffled Vince's jet-black hair. 'No, you're alright there. Pete hates it. He had a response similar to yours when I first played it to him, except he didn't have an allergic reaction.'

'Well, it's good that he doesn't like jazz. I don't think I could cope with two jazzy men in the same house!'

A couple of hours later and Howard was starting to get slightly fidgety. Vince, from his position curled up on the sofa, watched Howard march around their small flat, straightening cushions and wiping up imaginary spots of grease on their kitchen counters.

'Howard?'

His best mate ignored him, feverishly sorting out the mugs in the cabinet.

'Howard?'

Muttering to himself Howard started running hot water into the washing up bowl, even though there was only a grand total of two mugs waiting on the side.

'Howard? Howard? Howard-Howard-Howard-Howard...'

'What?'

'What are you and Pete gonna do when he gets here?'

'I don't know. It all depends on what he wants to do. Maybe go out into town or something. Pete likes going clubbing.'

Vince frowned, his gorgeous features wrinkling in puzzlement. 'But Howard, you _hate_ clubbing. The last time I managed to make you come out with me you had a panic attack and fainted outside. It took me _ages_ to bring you round.'

'Well maybe it's an acquired taste. Besides, it's not about me, is it? Pete's coming down for a small holiday and whatever he wants, he'll get.'

'Right. Well anyway, I'm off to Topshop before it closes. They've got a genius sale on. Half price on all metallic jumpsuits. I need a new one anyway.'

'How long are you gonna be?'

'Maybe two hours, three if the suits are as genius as Nick says they are.'

'Alright. Well Pete will be here by then, so you'll meet him when you come in.'

'Can't wait.'

Vince got off the sofa and headed into his bedroom. If Pete was going to be here by the time he got back, then his outfit required meticulous planning. He wanted to make a good impression, and as far as he was concerned, you could only do that with a killer outfit, accessorised to perfection.

Ten minutes later having decided on a pair of jet black skinnies with red polka-dots, a tight red silky top, his black high-heeled boots and a black scarf wound around his neck he started work on his hair and make-up.

Half an hour later Vince emerged from his bedroom, and Howard's jaw nearly hit the floor. Vince was looking more gorgeous than he'd ever seen him. Ever. He was wearing an outfit that really shouldn't work on anyone, and yet on Vince's delicate frame it looked outstanding. His large blue eyes were rimmed with smoky black kohl and his hair had never looked so good.

'W-why do you need to go to so much effort just for a trip down to Topshop Vince?'

Vince looked at him as if he'd just dropped straight from the planet Xooberon.

'Howard, Topshop is right in the centre of town.'

'And?'

Vince sighed. 'The centre of town, Howard. What would happen if I went to Topshop in that old outfit, eh? I'd be a laughing stock. It's _all_ about what you wear.'

'Well I've done plenty of trips into town sir, dressed down in my nutmeg sweater and olive cordoroys. I've never had any problems.'

Vince looked at him pityingly. 'Howard, your only mate who lives anywhere near town is Lester Cornflakes, and he's blind! He's not going to worry about what you're wearing is he? My mates will be buzzing around Topshop like bees round a honeycomb at this time in the evening.'

'Well then, that's your problem right there, sir. I've told you this once, and I'll tell you again, you need different friends.'

An unfathomable expression passed across Vince's face, and he lowered his eyes.

'Yep, right Howard. I'll just go get a seventy-year-old blind mate who thinks I'm the same age as he is, shall I? I'll see you in a bit.'

With that Vince spun on his heel and clattered off down the stairs, slamming the door in his trademark fashion behind him.

**Four Hours Later**

Vince paused outside the door to their flat, four large Topshop bags swinging from one hand, his other on the doorknob. Pete would be here by now, and Vince was experiencing an emotion he didn't encounter that often. Vince was nervous. From his point of view it was almost like an engaged woman meeting her mother-in-law for the first time. Howard was so important to him, and Pete was important to Howard. Therefore it was absolutely crucial that Pete should like him.

Vince checked in one of his bags. He'd bought some jaffa cakes in town, to share round between the three of them, and a couple of bottles of beer. Vince hated beer, preferring alcopops and mixers, but from what his hazy memory could recollect of Pete, he'd definitely seemed like a beer or lager man. The only trouble was, Vince had no idea what kind Pete would like, and so had ended up picking them at random. He hoped they were okay.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, Vince walked upstairs, dropping the three bags of clothes on the floor near the sofa. There was no sign of anyone. He went to the kitchen and unpacked the jaffa cakes and alcohol.

Howard's door opened and Howard stepped out, beaming when he saw Vince.

'Hey, you've been ages! Sale good, was it?'

'Excellent, the suits are amazing, proper genius. I bought three!'

'Good. Well, um, Vince, this is Pete. Pete this is Vince. You met at the Zoo once, ages ago.'

A large, burly man paused in the threshold of Howard's door and then walked forward to shake Vince's outstretched hand.

As Vince looked up at him he noticed that although Pete was smiling it was a fake smile, and didn't reach his eyes. He shook Vince's hand like it was contaminated, and even subtly rubbed it against his jeans when he took his hand back.

'Yeah. Right, I remember. Nice to meet ya mate.' And though Pete was still smiling, Vince suddenly had a terrible sense of forboding.

**Hope you liked it, this chapter was more of a filler really, waiting for Pete's arrival – and now he's here! Next chapter should be up in a couple of days.**

**Reviews are brilliant if you feel like commenting...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alrighty everyone, here it is, Chapter Three. I do warn you that from here on in it does get very angsty, however there are little bits of fluff thrown in for good measure to stop everyone getting TOO depressed! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah, blah, blah**

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There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Vince was standing, hands loosely by his sides, looking absolutely miserable. His big blue eyes were focussed on the floor by his feet, and he was having to try his best to stop his shoulders from shaking. Howard was feeling very uncomfortable. No matter how much he had tried to tell himself that Pete would really like Vince, he was finding it more and more unlikely. As for Pete himself, he appeared to be the only one at ease, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, examining Vince's gift of Jaffa Cakes and beer.

"Jaffa Cakes? Who in their right mind buys Jaffa Cakes when they're over twelve years old?" Pete's voice was coarse and rough. He had a Northern accent like Howard, but it was much stronger, and seemed laced with pent-up anger. Vince cringed, as if each word had slapped him hard around the face.

"I just thought we could share 'em out, you know? Jaffa Cakes are pretty genius actually..." Vince's voice, a lot smaller and weaker than Howard had ever usually heard it, faded away into nothing. Pete was staring at Vince with a mixture of disgust and wonder.

"Share 'em out? I'll stick to the beer thanks mate."

Vince looked up, and squared his shoulders, looking Pete directly in the eye.

"Fine then, you have the beer. Howard, you'll have a Jaffa Cake won't ya? Come on, a slice of orangey goodness?"

Howard stood, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Truth was, he loved Jaffa Cakes. Eating them reminded him of the times he'd spent with Vince, when they danced around the flat in their underwear chucking satsumas at each other, and then finishing off the night with a whole packet of the orangey cake. On the other hand there was Pete, who was staring at him incredulously.

"Hey, Howard mate, just grab a beer eh? Let's leave Vinny..."

"Vince."

"... Vince to eat the Jaffas, right?" Howard recognised that tone of voice, and surrendered reluctantly.

"Hey little man, you finish the cakes, yeah? You'll be able to have a whole packet to yourself, imagine that!"

Vince smiled weakly at Howard, and then, holding his cakes loosely in one hand, walked into his bedroom and shut the door.

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Vince didn't think he'd ever felt so unhappy in his entire life. Outside his door he could hear Howard and Pete moving around the flat, getting ready loudly for their first night out. Occasionally he'd hear Pete say something in his rumbly voice, and Howard would laugh, but the sound seemed slightly forced. Vince curled up on his bed, clutching his pillow to his chest. After a while he started to cry. It started out softly, small teardrops squeezing out from underneath his closed lashes and dripping down his pale cheeks, but after a while the sobs got stronger and stronger. His heart was beating about fifty thousand beats per minute, his chest hitching as he tried desperately to pull in breath to breathe. His tears soaked the pillow and his red silky top, the top he'd put on to make a good impression with Pete. Pete.

Fucking hell, what was he doing? How had he allowed someone like Pete to reduce him to this state? He was Vince Noir, Rock 'N' Roll Star, and he had absolutely no intention of allowing Pete to make him feel like this.

Drawing in a deep breath determinedly, he pushed his slim body up off the bed, and went to work on repairing his make-up and ruffled hair. Over his damp red top he pulled on a black leather jacket, with gold studs fixed all the way down the lapels. He boosted his hair up, so it cradled his stunning features in all the right ways, and re-did his eye make-up.

In a moment of defiance against Pete, he loaded his fingers up with all his most fuck-you rings, most of them intricately carved celtic bands from when he went through his Gothic phrase. They definitely gave him an edge.

In a flash it seemed clear to Vince what Pete's problem was. He was _jealous_. He was jealous because Vince was Howard's best mate now. Howard had moved on, and Pete couldn't take it. And now he was putting Vince down all the time to try and make him seem ridiculous in front of Howard. Well, if that was the idea then he had another think coming. Nobody messed with Vince and got away with it. His new-found confidence coursing through his veins, Vince grabbed his bag and slammed out of the door.

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Howard was getting worried. He was beginning to think he'd done the wrong thing in refusing the Jaffa Cakes. Plus, in true Sod's Law fashion, he was now really craving them. It was more than that though, wasn't it, he thought to himself. He thought back to the look on Vince's face. He'd looked completely crushed. All the fight had just been knocked out of him. And then after he'd sloped off to his room, Pete had looked so fucking smug. Howard had wanted to hit him for making Vince unhappy. Instead he'd had a beer. He was such a _coward_. And now Vince had been in his bedroom for the best part of an hour, and he hadn't heard a thing.

The thing was, Howard had to keep Pete on side. He just had to. He barely admitted it to anyone, least of all Vince, but Howard was paranoid about his lack of friends. He knew he was a little socially inept, and so the friends that he did have meant the world to him. Even Lester Corncrake who took the piss out of him just as much as Vince. Howard had not had a brilliant time at school, but Pete was the one who'd always protected him. Also, Pete had a point didn't he? Jaffa Cakes were a _little_ babyish. Vince had just totally overreacted. Pete had a very blunt, honest side to him, that some people didn't seem to be able to handle very well. Give them a couple of days and they'd be, well, maybe not mates, but at least getting on better. It was all about compromise. Yes, that definitely made sense, Howard thought. But why was he still feeling bad?

Just then he heard Vince's door open with a crash and glanced up, startled. His small brown eyes widened in surprise. Vince had an expression of absolute defiance on his pointed features. His raven, silky hair swirled around his head and shoulders like some sort of gothic angel. His slender fingers were loaded with amazing silver rings, and he'd put on a black leather jacket that highlighted the darkness of his hair.

"Erm, Vince? You off somewhere?" Howard realised that his words came out in an embarrassing high-pitched squeak. Vince looked at him, an expression in his eyes that Howard couldn't easily read.

"Yeah. Off to town with Leroy, Chris and Nick. You have a problem with that?"

"No, no, of course not. Well, have a good time, little man, yeah?"

Vince ducked his head, hair falling across his eyes, then looked back up at the bigger man.

"Yeah, course I will."

Footsteps approaching from Howard's room signalled Pete's arrival. Howard saw Pete's grey eyes narrow in disdain as he regarded Vince.

"What are you _wearing_ mate?"

Vince flashed an icy blue glare in Pete's direction.

"It's called Fashion _mate_." He picked up a copy of Cheekbone, and launched it at Pete. The man caught it automatically. "You might wanna read that sometime, might help you get laid for once." Howard's jaw dropped almost to the floor, and Pete was looking pretty stunned as well. Howard realised that Vince was... _furious_. Yes, that was what it was. But why? It was only Jaffa Cakes. What on earth could have made Vince this angry? He was always so bubbly, upbeat, cheerful. That was why Howard loved him.

Vince spun on his heel and headed towards the stairs, before turning for one more parting shot.

"See you guys later, yeah? Don't wait up, I'll probably be late. And Pete, don't let Howard drag you out to any Jazz clubs, they're _well_ creepy." A few seconds later both men heard the front door slam shut. Pete glanced down at the magazine he was still holding in his hands, and dropped it as though it was diseased.

"What a fucking poofter," Pete muttered, his voice laden with absolute disgust. Howard crumbled a little inside. "Thank God we won't see him when we're in town, right Howard? We won't be going to the kind of places his _type_ go to, will we?" And Pete laughed a little nastily, the sound sending cold shivers down Howard's spine.

**Well there you have it. Reviews are love! Please let me know what you think. Next update might take a little longer, as I have to navigate my way around the dangerous shores of Uni deadlines. PipPip**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry about the shameful lack of updates – uni work took a little longer than I had bargained for...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the stunning Noel or the hilarious Julian. Though, of course, I wish I did**

**Warning: Contains severe violence, homophobic sentiments, and bad language. Rated T to be safe. If anyone thinks I should up the rating let me know.**

Vince was on his sixth double vodka and coke, and his head was starting to spin. Chris and Nick were out of it totally, the former was sitting slumped against the side of the club wall with his head in his hands and the latter was last to be found throwing up his guts in the skanky loos. Only Leroy appeared to be relatively sober, and was throwing shapes with a gorgeous blonde girl in the centre of the cramped dance floor. Vince had joined him for a while, attracting admiring glances from both men and women alike. He'd been propositioned no less than seven times tonight, but for some reason sex in the loos or outside in the alleyways didn't appeal to him. No, it wasn't _some_ reason. It was _one _reason. Or one person to be frank. Howard. Just picturing Howard with his soft brown eyes and fine, silky hair was enough to put Vince off any clandestine encounters. With an unexpected surge of longing, Vince desperately wanted Howard here with him right now. Things just weren't the same without him lately. Howard always had the ability to cheer Vince up when he was feeling down, which, admittedly, wasn't very often. Vince located a crumpled pack of Jelly Babies in his jacket pocket, and sucked on one thoughtfully. Just when was it, he wondered, that he'd started to find Howard intensely attractive? Was it that night of the Party? No, it was far before that. Was it when Howard had been kidnapped by that transsexual merman, Old Gregg? No, it was before that as well. Maybe, he thought, maybe it had always been there. Those times at the Zoo, now that he thought about it he remembered always being jealous of Mrs Gideon, just because Howard was more interested in her than he was in Vince. In fact, everything always came down to Howard. Shit! Vince dropped his packet of Jelly Babies. Crap. Vince was _in love_ with Howard.

Right then, in his intoxicated state, Vince realised he needed to find him. No matter if he was with Pete still (which he very probably would be). Vince would just ask him for a quiet private word. Surely Howard wouldn't reject him just because Pete was there. Vince raised his voice to carry across the dancefloor.

"Oi! Leroy!"

Leroy glanced over, hearing Vince's shout. He saw his friend's slender body leant against the wall of the club, a rumpled packet of Jelly Babies at his feet. Vince's hair, even from this distance, looked a little mussed, but still rich and incredibly luxurious. His sparkling eyes, dilated slightly from the alcohol, were as big and blue as the ocean. His full red lips, still smeared slightly with lipstick from that girl he'd been necking, gave him a minor air of debauchery. Vince looked distracted, he was shuffling his feet, clad in their really rather genius high-heeled black boots.

"Yeah, mate?"

"I'm going, alright? I need to... I need to, um, find someone, yeah?"

Leroy realised that Vince was pretty drunk, but to be honest he was having a really good time with this blonde girl (he didn't know her name, did it matter?) and Vince was a big boy, in age terms, and capable of looking after himself.

"Sure mate! Be careful, yeah?"

Vince merely muttered something incomprehensible and started weaving his way drunkenly out of the club, through spaces more muscular men would have found impossible.

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Vince stepped out into the cold night air, and shivered slightly. His jacket, though naturally the height of fashion, wasn't exactly what you'd call warm. Wrapping it around his slim body he started picking his way down the street, towards the flat but taking a route that would lead him past all the major pubs and clubs of the town. Hopefully this way he'd find Howard and tell him what he needed to.

As he neared the square in the centre of the town, he realised that a group of thickset thugs had just issued from the door of the pub closest to him. Even in his inebritiated state he realised that these guys probably wouldn't understand someone like him and so, using a survival instinct honed from years of being bullied at school, he turned away from the main path he was going to follow and slipped down a narrow alleyway in between Waterstones and an all-night café.

At first he thought he'd lost them, and that they hadn't noticed him at all. After a few minutes of walking though, he could hear heavy footfalls behind him. Shit. There was no way he could run in these boots. At the very least he'd snap a heel off, at the worst he'd probably break his ankle.

Risking a quick glance behind, he realised it was worse than he'd thought. No less than eight men were following him down the alley. When they saw him glance backwards, they started moving faster and jeering.

"Oi, oi, lads! What've we got 'ere then? Our own little fairy queen?" Raucous laughter. Vince walked quicker, his heart pounding in his chest. Come on, almost at the end of the alley, then they'd be other people walking around. He'd be safe.

Too late. Vince felt a heavy hand slap onto his shoulder and he was thrown against the alley wall. The leader of the group had walked faster than the others, and was staring into Vince's blue eyes with an expression a mixture of disgust, hatred and dark amusement. He regarded Vince's pale face, and huge fearful eyes.

"Looks like we got ourselves a little fairy boy, eh lads!"

Summoning up all his courage, Vince spat in the man's face.

"Leave me alone you jerk-off," he hissed. The man's face darkened. By this point the rest of his group had caught up to him, and were stood around, cutting off Vince's escape. Their leader leaned close into Vince, and Vince could smell his rank alcoholic breath.

"We don't want _your kind_, round here, poofter. You get me?" Vince wanted nothing more than to knee the bloke in the balls. Instead he merely retorted,

"You might consider a tic-tac." The man's meaty hand slammed around Vince's slender throat, and he jolted him forward then slammed his head back against the wall. Vince felt dizzy, and the strange sensation of something warm trickling down through his precious jet-black hair, and down his neck. The group laughed and their leader did it again, but harder this time.

Vince's head felt like it was going to split in two the pain was so great. He moaned, and his knees buckled.

"Oh no, you little wise-ass. We're nowhere near finished with you yet." He grabbed Vince's shoulders and pushed him into the rest of the group. One man held Vince's thin body, as another drew back a fist, and slammed it into Vince's stomach. The small man doubled up, gasping for breath. The man holding him laughed nastily, and grabbed a fistful of Vince's blood-matted hair, yanking him upright, so the other man could hit him again. Vince screamed with pain and crumpled to the floor, curling himself automatically into a ball.

Dazed by the agony rippling through his head and body, he was only vaguely aware of the men still stood around him, laughing to themselves. Occasionally one would boot him heavily in the head or the stomach. This carried on for what seemed to Vince like years, though in reality it could only have been a couple of minutes. Eventually Vince heard a man say,

"Come on guys. I'm bored. Let's leave 'im and get some burgers, yeah?" That voice seemed familiar. Vince managed to crack open one bruised eye, and as the men headed off, he saw the man who had spoken.

Vince would have cried out if he'd had the energy. The man was Pete. He was absolutely sure of it. And, what's more, as Pete passed he looked directly down at Vince, winked, and knelt beside him, putting his mouth to Vince's ear.

"If you tell Howard about this, you are _dead_, you fucking queer. Understand?" Then he stood up and followed his mates out of the alley.

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Howard was getting bored. He was sat in the corner of a pub on his own, cradling a half pint of lager. He'd had an alright evening with Pete, though all the testosterone had started to get to him a little. All they'd talked about, or rather, all Pete had talked about, was the football, beer, and scoring with girls. Howard had quite fancied a glass of lemonade, but Pete was adamant that he should have lager.

"You don't want lemonade, mate. That's a queer's drink." And he looked at Howard, and Howard had blushed furiously and made no further comment.

Howard just didn't think he was cut out for a night down the pub with the 'lads' as Pete called them. In fact, he was desperately starting to crave the company of a certain raven-haired sunshine kid. Vince would never have stopped him having lemonade – he'd probably have had lemonade as well, _and_ put little umbrellas in it to cheer it up a bit.

Howard felt the usual pang in his chest as he thought of Vince, and his beaming smile. The way his hand would occasionally muss up his beautiful dark hair, never knowing what that simple action did to Howard. The way his beautiful blue eyes would gaze at Howard with total innocence when he asked if that black bits in bananas were tarantulas eggs. But no. These thoughts weren't _allowed_. Pete had made that very clear. But he was gone now, wasn't he? He'd gone off with some new mates he'd met over a game of darts, saying he'd see Howard at home, he knew the address, and would get a taxi.

Howard sighed and got up, leaving his lager on the sticky table. Pete had only left about five minutes ago. He might be able to catch him up. A blast of cold air hit him as he came out of the pub. As he wrapped his sensible, thick cordoroy coat around him and headed off towards the flat, he heard cries of pain coming from an alleyway on the other side of the square.

Howard was not a particularly brave man. He knew it, even though he did like to call himself a man-of-action. Nevertheless, the fact that someone might be in trouble was enough to start him towards the entrance to the alley. As he neared it he heard the tramp of feet, as though a group of people were leaving the alley in a hurry.

As Howard got closer, he saw a group of maybe seven or eight men leave the alley at the other end, and his small eyes could just about pick out the shape of someone lying on the ground, about two thirds of the way down.

Cautiously Howard started down towards the fallen figure.

"Hello? Can you answer me? Are you alright?" Howard heard the figure sob in pain, and walked a little quicker. Something about that sob had seemed familiar.

Just then the person moaned something that had Howard's heart plummeting straight to the soles of his sensible brown loafers.

"Howard?"

Howard Moon, man-of-action, all but flew down the remaining length of the alley, dreading what he'd find. There, crumpled on the filthy freezing ground like a broken doll, was his best mate and sunshine kid, Vince Noir. Vince's hair was matted and filthy, and his head was lying in a pool of what looked horribly like blood. One eye was bruised beyond belief, and a trickle of blood was sliding down the side of his mouth. His jacket and tight red top had ridden up to expose his pale, flat stomach, which was now marred with deep blue and purple bruises, and jagged cuts in the flesh, again oozing more blood.

Howard's veins filled with ice, and he found it difficult to breathe.

"Vince? Vince? Oh my God, what happened?" Vince could only choke and cough, but his beautiful eyes, dimmed by pain and hurt, gazed up at Howard with an unreadable expression. That was all the motivation Howard needed.

Carefully he slid an arm under Vince's shoulders and pulled him gently upright to a sitting position. Then he put an arm under Vince's knees and, with a minimal amount of effort, stood up with the slender man cradled in his arms. Even though this was a tragic situation, Howard could not suppress the joy he felt at finally being able to hold Vince this way. Vince's head lolled back on Howard's arm, smearing his coat sleeve with blood. Realising that he'd fainted, Howard started to stride out of the alleyway. Forget hospital. He was going straight to the Nabootique to see what Naboo could do to help his best mate. Pete would be alright by himself until the morning. Right now, Vince needed him.

**Hope you enjoyed it. Very angsty I know, but this is an angsty story! I love reviews, they make me happy.**

**Chapter Five should be up sometime tomorrow.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Firstly, big, big, big apologies for this not being updated sooner, but my internet helpfully decided to crash on me. Bad times. However, here it is, Chapter Five. Better late than never!**

**Disclaimer: The Boosh is not mine, nor shall it ever be *sob***

**Warning: Slight homosexual action. Don't like, don't read.**

Naboo was woken up by someone kicking loudly at the Nabootique's front door. He sat up among his silk sheets, rubbing his eyes blearily. He and Bollo had rather overdone it on the old Hookah, and his brain felt like it was melting into a squidgy mess at the bottom of his skull. Pulling on his old dressing gown and his turban, he _never_ went anywhere without it, he stumbled drowsily down the stairs into the shop.

Unless he was very much mistaken, that was _Howard_ kicking at the door spasmodically, with what looked suspiciously like a certain Vince Noir in his arms. Naboo rubbed his eyes again, sure he was hallucinating. Since when did this happen?

"Naboo, you turbaned nitwit, let me in!" No, that was definitely Howard's dulcet Northern tones assaulting his delicate eardrums. Howard sounded angry, which was probably why he was currently attempting to break the door down, and also... frightened? The figure in Howard's arms seemed to regain consciousness and moaned loudly. Naboo sprang into action. He unlocked the door and held it wide open for Howard enter.

Without a word to Naboo, Howard made immediately for the stairs and Naboo followed. As Howard laid the comatose Vince down on the sofa, Naboo broke the silence.

"What happened to 'im?" Howard seemed to be having difficulty breathing, and he took a few moments to find the words.

"Bullies, found him in an alley, came straight back here." He turned to the small shaman, utter devastation in his small eyes. "Help him Naboo. Please." All the strength that had sustained him from the centre of town deserted him, and he sank to the floor.

Naboo fetched him a blanket and then turned his attention to Vince, who had slipped back into unconsciousness. The first thing he did was grab a towel, and slip it under Vince's head to stop too much blood leaking into the sofa's cushions. Carefully he peeled Vince's tight jacket and top off over his head and threw them into the laundry basket. Running his hands over Vince's slender pale chest and the bruises and cuts that scarred it Naboo checked for broken ribs, and was relieved when he couldn't find any. Getting up he crossed the flat and hammered on Bollo's door.

"Bollo! Get your furry gorilla arse out here now!" Not waiting to see if his familiar had heard him he turned on his heel and headed into his room to root through his box of potions to find ones that would help Vince. When he came back into the main room he found that Howard had changed position and was now crouched next to the sofa, his arms thrown round Vince's waist and his head laid gently on Vince's chest. Naboo could hear his dry sobs as he fought to contain the pain at seeing his best mate like this.

Bollo finally slumped out of his room, and stopped dead when he saw the scene in front of him.

"What happen to Vince? What Howard done now?"

"Never mind that now Bollo, get over here and hold Vince's head for me." Bollo lumbered forwards to do as Naboo asked.

"Vince precious flower," was his only comment. Naboo rolled his eyes.

"Yes Bollo, we know."

On closer examination the wound on the back of Vince's head was fairly serious. Had the guy slammed him against the wall any harder his head might well have cracked open. Howard raised his head and watched anxiously as Naboo fought to stop the bleeding.

"Bollo, pass me the extract of fire lizard will ya?" Unable to contain his curiosity Howard gazed at the small bright crimson bottle that the gorilla passed to the shaman.

"What's extract of fire lizard for?"

"Staunching wounds and preventing blood loss," Naboo snapped out, working on slathering the liquid all over the gash in Vince's head.

Naboo finished dressing the wound, and Bollo gently laid Vince's head back on the towel. Naboo rocked back on his heels, looking exhausted. Howard extricated his arms from their position around Vince and stood up.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"We leave him to sleep it off. He should be fine in the morning. The wound on his head will heal overnight. The bruises and cuts on his chest I'm going to leave and let nature take its course. They're not as important as his head injury. He'll be sore for a few days but should make a full recovery. Now Howard, tell me everything that happened."

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Howard told. Naboo listened to him gravely. When he'd finished Naboo stood in silence for a moment.

"Where's Pete now?"

"Should be at our flat. I sent him a text letting him know what happened. He hasn't replied yet. He's probably asleep. He was fairly drunk." Naboo nodded, but frowned in thought. Something wasn't right about Pete, his shamanistic senses were prickling. Naboo resolved to keep an eye on the situation. His instincts were rarely wrong.

At Naboo's direction, Howard picked Vince up from the sofa, and carried him into his old room. He placed the slim body under the covers, and then slid in next to him. Naboo raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything and left the room, shutting the door gently behind him. Howard propped himself up on the pillows and stroked Vince's jet-black hair away from his pale, bruised face. The bruising around Vince's right eye was purple and blue, and he had rough cuts all down his beautiful features from the ground he'd collapsed on. Howard was angry. Very angry. Who on earth could be heartless enough to do something like this to another human being? And why did it have to be Vince? Howard had no doubt that it was a homophobic attack. People looked at Vince and judged him immediately by his outward appearance. They would never know how much joy Vince brought to people, simply by being himself. Oh yes, of course, he could be incredibly annoying and amazingly insensitive sometimes, but he never meant anything maliciously. In sleep Vince's features had relaxed and he looked peaceful. Even with all the bruises and cuts Howard thought Vince was the most beautiful person he'd ever met. Gradually Howard slipped off to sleep, wondering why Pete hadn't texted back.

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When Vince woke up in the morning there was a blissful second of peace before all the memories and the pain hit him. Wincing he raised a hand to his head. It was sore, but otherwise intact which was strange as he definitely remembered having his head slammed against a wall, which should have left a mark at least. However this didn't trouble him unduly, as he realised simultaneously that he was in his old bedroom at Naboo's flat and Howard was snoring lightly beside him in the bed, one arm thrown over Vince's chest. Cautiously Vince removed Howard's arm and slipped out of bed. He swayed dizzily for a moment, before regaining his balance. Shakily he moved across the room to the full-length mirror in the corner.

Vince gasped. His face was a mess of livid bruises and jagged cuts which stood out starkly against his pale skin. His hair was matted and knotted, and when he ran his hand through it his fingers came away red with blood. Vivid weals stood out on his chest and all down his left side where he'd been booted repeatedly. It hurt to move and so Vince collapsed back on the bed with a groan. This woke Howard up, who was beside him in a second.

"Vince? Are you alright? How do you feel?"

"Like I've been beaten up," Vince choked out, in a tone which was meant to sound light and jokey but really didn't. Howard inwardly winced at the desolation in his friend's voice.

"Naboo did his best for you last night, you had a pretty horrific wound on the back of your head. Do you remember anything at all?"

Vince's blue eyes dimmed. "I remember these guys following me down the alley. I was trying to find you to tell you..." Abruptly Vince stopped, and Howard could have sworn he saw a blush creep up on the pale skin.

"Tell me what, little man?"

Vince's eyes darted around the room, slightly panicked.

"Umm, I was going to tell you, that... that we'd run out of Coco Pops." Was it Vince's imagination or did Howard look a little, disappointed? No, that couldn't be right.

"Oh, okay. Well I'll pick some up today. You don't remember anything else?"

"Well, I remember them attacking me," Vince's voice was faint and shaky. "They were laughing."

"Did you recognise any of them?"

Vince's heart almost stopped in fear. What could he say? Pete had been very clear that if he told Howard he'd be in trouble. Also, Howard would not hear a word said against Pete, that much was clear. Vince suddenly had a horrible thought. Even if he did tell Howard, would Howard even believe him? It wasn't worth the risk.

"N-no, no I didn't."

"You're sure?" Howard probed. He hadn't missed the instant flash of fear in Vince's eyes.

"Of course I'm sure Howard! God, what do you think I am, stupid? Anyway, enough with the questions. I'm tired." Howard frowned. There was something Vince wasn't telling him. The way he'd reacted just now confirmed it. When Vince felt cornered he lashed out, to deflect attention. Howard decided to let the matter rest. He'd find out soon enough.

"Anyway, how did you find me?"

"I was just looking for Pete, and I heard those, those _animals_ laughing and someone else screaming..." Howard's voice faltered and almost broke but he made himself carry on. "So I went to investigate. I found you about halfway down, picked you up and carried you back here. I knew Naboo would help."

Vince was stunned. Howard had _carried_ him all the way back from the centre of town? That was a distance of at least a mile. And, God help him, but he felt uncomfortably aroused at the thought of Howard carrying him like that. All he wanted was to feel Howard's strong arms around him. He never thought he'd get his wish quite in this manner though.

"Cheers Howard," he murmured softly.

"Do you think you should have a wash Vince? You need to get cleaned up a bit." Vince smiled weakly.

"I can't really move easily, Howard."

"Well, sling your arm around my shoulder. I'll help you." Howard half carried Vince out of their bedroom and into the bathroom. While Vince sat on the loo seat Howard started running a bath.

When he turned back to his best mate, he noticed that Vince was looking distinctly embarrassed.

"What's the matter little man?"

Vince gulped. "It's my trousers. It hurts too much... I can't take them off..." Howard swallowed, audibly.

"Well, that's no problem. I'll do them for you, shall I?" Howard's voice was remarkably level, but inside his mind was in turmoil. How many times had he fantasised about doing this?

Vince merely nodded. Gently Howard unbuckled Vince's sparkly silver belt, and undid the skinny jeans. He had a bit of a job getting them off, why Vince felt it necessary to force himself into these things he would never know.

When the offending trousers were finally lying in a crumpled heap on the bathroom floor Howard started to help Vince up and over to the bathtub. What he hadn't bargained on was how close they would be when Vince stood up. They were pretty much nose to nose. Vince was panting slightly, and for some reason Howard didn't think it was just from the pain.

Suddenly Vince had moved forward, and before Howard knew it, Vince was kissing him. The feel of his soft, full lips on his own almost made him swoon. He circled his arms round Vince's waist, and tentatively started to kiss him back.

Then Howard felt Vince stirring against his leg. He suddenly had a flashback of Pete's disgusted face when he talked about homosexuality. Shit. What if Pete _found out_! Howard didn't think he could take it. Sharply he pushed Vince away from him. Howard saw Vince's eyes fill with hurt and confusion.

"This was a mistake Vince. You should get cleaned up. I'll wait for you outside." Breathing heavily Howard slammed out of the room, leaving Vince to sink down onto the loo seat, staring blankly into space.

**Well, well. So sorry for delay in update – stupid laptop. The next update might take a couple of days as I have a few deadlines to cope with! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Uni work is finally out of the way so updates should be fairly regular from now! I'm not entirely sure how long this fic is going to end up becoming but feedback on potential length and potential things happening will always be appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: You've heard it all before, not mine...**

**Warning: Homophobic sentiments expressed...**

**This is my longest chapter so far, I really enjoyed writing it, I hope you enjoy reading!**

Vince reflected morosely that he seemed to be making a habit out of crying in bathrooms recently. Perhaps he should make it his new hobby. This time around though, it was so much worse than when Howard had yelled at him just before Pete's arrival. This time Vince had put his life and his heart on the line, and Howard had rejected him. There simply was no other word for it. Howard had rejected him, and the pain was almost breaking Vince's sunny heart. Vince gazed at all the bruises and cuts on his chest and stomach, and gingerly felt the wounds on his face. At last Howard seemed to have understood what Vince knew himself to be all along. Damaged. He couldn't understand it though. Howard had seemed nervous, but he'd definitely kissed Vince back for at least twenty seconds. And, Vince thought to himself wryly, you didn't kiss like _that_ unless you meant at least part of it. And now the problem remained of how to get himself over to the bath. He couldn't very well just yell for Howard to come and help him now, could he? Steeling himself he heaved his body off the loo seat and stumbled towards the bath, resting one hand on the bathroom wall to steady himself. It was unbelievable how much even a little thing like walking could hurt. How he ever managed to get himself into the tub was a mystery, but he did it. The warm water alternately soothed and stung his wounds. He hadn't bothered to take his boxers off, that would have been asking too much of his exhausted body. Gradually the pain subsided, and Vince ducked his head under the water, getting his matted, blood-soaked hair clean again. The water in the bath was tinged red now. Vince realised he needed to get out. His hair was clean, lathered with his favourite shampoo and conditioner. Sighing to himself he put both hands on the sides of the tub, preparing to lever himself out.

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Howard was sitting on the sofa in the living room. A documentary on the origins of jazz was on the television, but he wasn't watching it. His mind was whirling with a crazy mix-up of emotions and memories. Meeting Vince at Primary School, a beautiful blonde boy with big blue eyes and an incredibly sunny disposition, who didn't care that Howard was regarded as the freak of the whole school. Getting Vince the job at the Zooniverse and watching the pointed features light up with delight at the thought of working with all those animals, and Howard. Vince saving him time and time again from the various monsters and dangers they'd fought together. The petty arguments and bickering that seemed to have plagued them from the moment they met, and yet never damaged the deep bond that ran between them like a lifeline for them both. Vince's cheerful personality dimmed from the moment Pete arrived at their flat to stay with them. Vince crumpled on the ground, bleeding and in pain. Vince looking at him with such love in the bathroom. The kiss that had blown Howard's mind and heart. The rejection, and the pain in the eyes of the one he loved the most.

But Howard wasn't gay! He _wasn't_. He liked girls. Girls who shared his deep love of stationary management and jazz. Not beautiful boys who had an allergic reaction every time they heard bee-bop, and were constantly ridiculing his dress sense. And besides, who was Howard to say that Vince had really _wanted_ the kiss to happen? He was probably just grateful to Howard for helping him. The kiss was Vince's way of expressing his gratitude to Howard, in a matey-type way. Howard had clearly completely misinterpreted it, and now Vince was probably freaking out. Fear coursed through Howard's mind. What if... what if Vince _told_ someone? What if _Pete_ heard it? Howard had already been through a similar situation years before, a few weeks after he and Pete had first met...

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"_Do you like James, Pete?"_

_The bigger boy had looked at Howard strangely._

"_Yeah, course. He's alright."_

_Howard had frowned thoughtfully, his childish features wrinkling. "I like him, but he hasn't invited me to his birthday party. Has he invited you?"_

"_Yeah." Pete's expression told Howard that he was becoming bored with the conversation already, but Howard persevered._

"_Do you think I'd be able to come?"_

"_Maybe. You'd need to get better clothes though. Can't be seen with you wearing that sorta stuff."_

_Howard had nodded eagerly._

"_Do you think if I get new clothes then James would like me?" Pete gave a non-committal shrug._

"_Maybe."_

_The two boys stood in thought for a few more minutes, Pete busily typing a text out on his first ever mobile. Then Howard said, almost to himself:_

"_I really do want James to like me. I really, really like him." At first he didn't think Pete had heard him, but when he looked up, Pete was staring at him in disgust mixed with mild amusement._

"_Oh. My. God. Howard, mate, you're not a poofter are you?"_

"_What's a poofter?"_

"_Gays. Queers. Batty boys." Howard flushed deep scarlet. Was that what these feelings were? Were they wrong? Well, obviously, given the way Pete was staring at him. Quick, say something. Desperately trying to imitate Pete's devil-may-care tone, Howard replied._

"_No! Course not. Just like him, you know. He's nice."_

"_Hmmm." Pete didn't sound convinced. "Well, just so long as you're sure, mate. Cos those queers, they're _wrong_, you understand? I know cos my Dad told me. You go to hell, mate, if you're one of them."_

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Howard was confused. He knew that Vince was bisexual, heaven knows he'd hardly been discreet about it over the years, but he, Howard Moon, was straight as a ruler, yes sir. That thing with James had been over ten years ago, a childish fancy, that was all. Shoving all his doubts to the back of his mind, Howard made a decision. He wasn't gay, and Vince didn't fancy him. They would carry on like they always did, as best mates. Once Vince was sufficiently recovered, they would go back to the flat. Back to Pete.

Suddenly there was a cry from the bathroom, and the sound of water slopping over the side of a bathtub and onto the floor. Howard jumped up from the sofa like he'd been shot, and ran over to the bathroom door. Upon opening it he saw Vince collapsed over the side of the bath, he'd clearly attempted to get out by himself and not managed. Howard felt a sharp stab of guilt. Vince had obviously felt ashamed of kissing him, and had decided not to call him for the help he needed. Howard swallowed, and made his way over to the bath.

"Vince?"

The younger man groaned, but didn't say anything. It was clear that his fall had hurt Vince's delicate chest and stomach. Howard found himself for the second time in twenty-four hours slinging Vince's arm around his neck. Carefully he manoevered him upright and helped him out of the bath. Oh shit. Now that he was standing on the bathmat, Howard could see that water was coursing down Vince's slight body to his soaked boxers, which now wet were leaving very little to the imagination. Hurriedly Howard grabbed a large towel and flung it almost viciously at his mate. Shuddering slightly with cold and shock, Vince took it and wrapped it around himself, wincing as the rough material of the fabric made contact with his injuries.

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An hour later and both men were in the living room. Vince had thrown on an old baggy t-shirt that he hadn't worn for years, new boxers and a pair of Howard's old tracksuit bottoms that he wore to Jazzercise. He hadn't bothered root-boosting his hair, or putting on make-up. There didn't seem to be any point, really. His mind was almost a complete blank. What an _idiot_ he'd been. The look in Howard's eyes when he'd flung the towel at him was almost disgust. And yet, Vince didn't regret kissing Howard. Howard must know now how Vince felt about him. The ball was in his court. Vince was prepared to fight for Howard, was prepared to go up against Pete if necessary.

Just then the radio started playing a song that Vince vaguely recognized as one of Pink's.

_I don't mind it_

_I don't mind at all_

_It's like_

_You're the swingset_

_And I'm the kid that falls_

_It's like_

_The way we fight_

_The times I've cried_

_We've come to blows_

_And every night_

_The passion's there_

_So it's gotta be right_

_Right?_

Vince was aware of Howard moving next to him and muttering something about going to make a cup of tea. He watched as the bigger man walked across to the kitchen.

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't_

_Come around here no more_

_I won't remind you_

_You said we wouldn't be apart_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't need me anymore_

_So don't pretend to_

_Not love me at all_

Vince let the lyrics soothe him as he sat curled up on the sofa, watching the man he loved going about the mundane task of making the tea. If it wasn't for the pain in his chest and the agony in his heart he could almost imagine that his dreams had come true, that him and Howard were together, as a proper couple.

_I don't mind it_

_I still don't mind at all_

_It's like_

_One of those bad dreams_

_When you can't wake up_

_Looks like_

_You've given up_

_You've had enough_

_But I want more_

_No I won't stop_

_Cos I just know_

_You'll come around_

_Right?_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't _

_Come around here no more_

_I won't remind you_

_You said we wouldn't be apart_

_No I don't believe you_

_When you say you_

_Don't need me anymore_

_So don't pretend to_

_Not love me at all_

_Just don't stand there and watch me fall_

_Cos I, cos I still don't mind at all_

Abruptly Howard turned, and switched the radio to another station, cutting off Pink's mournful lyrics.

"Never could stand Pink, little man," he said lightly. "Do you mind if we have another song?"

"It's your choice Howard," Vince murmured so softly that Howard wondered if he'd heard him right.

**So, that's it for the moment. Next update should be winging its way to you soon! Hope you enjoyed it. PipPip xxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hey all, thanks so much for your reviews, I love reading them! This chapter is fairly long, I had so many ideas for it! Hope you enjoy...**

**Disclaimer: Oh how I wish the Boosh was mine... sadly it isn't**

**Warning: Contains homosexual action. Don't like don't read. **

It was five days later, and Vince's injuries had pretty much healed. It was five days later and Pete still hadn't left. Under much coaxing from Howard Vince had finally decided to move back to the flat. Despite his defiant mindset, Vince had to admit that he was scared of Pete. There was something about him that wasn't quite right, and not just because he'd stood by and watched Vince being beaten to a pulp. Vince had debated for a while as to whether he should just stay in the Nabootique. Howard seemed to be having a fine time without him. But somewhere within him his old spirit had flared up, there was no keeping Vince down for long.

He was curled up on the sofa in the flat he shared with Howard. It was the first day since he'd decided to come back. He'd used the excuse to Howard it was because he needed Naboo's medicines and shamanistic know-how. In reality it was because Pete plain scared him. His eyes were somehow soulless, and whenever he looked at Vince it was with pure hatred. Vince was the toast of the whole town, nobody hated him. It was unnerving, to put it mildly.

Thank God Pete was out for the day. He'd gone to the races with the mates he'd met at the pub, the night Vince was attacked. Howard had been invited, of course, but he'd chosen to stay with Vince, and for that Vince felt hope. Hope that everything wasn't lost between him and the man he loved. Hope that somehow Howard knew how Vince felt about him. However much Vince was terrified of Pete, that wasn't going to stop him. He knew how to fight for what he wanted. How many times had he had to battle some other guy from going for the genius boots in Topshop? He was practically a veteran.

Talking of which... Vince got off the sofa and went into his bedroom. Yes, definitely. He knew what he was going to wear tonight. Those boots were absolute classics. He _had_ to wear them. Tonight was one of the only nights that Howard wasn't spending with Pete. Pete had decided to go into town with his new mates and Howard wasn't going. Tonight was the night that Vince was going to show Howard exactly how much they meant to each other. Vince glanced in his mirror, and for the first time in a while he smiled.

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"Seriously mate, I don't understand why you won't come out with us." Pete was angry, his face had turned a strange magenta colour, and his fists were clenched. Howard shuffled his feet, and lowered his eyes. Realisation dawned on Pete's lumpen features. "Oh right. I get it. His Royal Queerness wants you to stay in, is that it? Wants you to look after him? Diddums." Howard glanced up.

"Don't talk about Vince like that. He's one of my best friends." Pete laughed, mockingly.

"Oh come on Howard. I don't even understand why you're mates with that poofter. He's a nobody, nothing. He doesn't even like you that much, I can tell." Howard's small brown eyes shifted slightly.

"What? How can you tell? What do you know?"

"He's always insulting you, isn't he? Putting you down, mocking you in front of his cooler friends, not inviting you anywhere..."

Howard's mind was whirling. "Stop it. Vince isn't like that, he's not. We're like Yin and Yang."

Pete's narrow grey eyes were gleaming with pleasure. "Vince is always holding you back. I knew your potential right from when we first met."

Howard was about to ask exactly how he knew, when he was suddenly, and unpleasantly reminded of an incident a few weeks back when Lance Dior had come into the shop and tried to turn him and Vince against each other. His face hardened.

"Well, whatever Pete. Listen, you go out and enjoy yourself with your mates. It's your holiday. I'm going to spend an evening with Vince. It's a shame you two don't get on more, but I told Vince I was gonna be with him tonight. And when Howard Moon makes a promise, he keeps it sir."

Pete's face turned absolutely puce. He looked about ready to punch Howard in the face. His jaw was clenched and he seemed to be having trouble controlling himself. Howard realised that this was the first time that he had turned Pete down, and that Pete didn't like it. Pete didn't like it at all.

Things might have gotten ugly, but all of a sudden Vince's door opened. Pete and Howard both turned, in tandem, towards it. The gothic fairy was standing there looking like... looking like, well, a gothic fairy. His dark hair was root-boosted, obviously, and was floating around his face like a stormcloud. His bright blue eyes were emphasised with dark eyeliner and a shimmery silver eyeshadow. He was wearing the kaftan he'd worn that infamous night on the roof, and he had paired it with glittery silver leggings. Howard hadn't even known that you could get glitter on leggings, but of course if anyone could manage it, Vince could. On his feet were a pair of black, high-heeled boots, with silver stars stitched onto their leather. Howard was quite literally gobsmacked.

Vince strode casually towards the kitchen, totally ignoring Pete, but he gave Howard a little smile as he passed. After grabbing a packet of Haribo from the cupboard, Vince turned to Howard.

"So, you ready?"

Howard was too stunned to answer. He had never seen Vince look so amazing. The outfit he was wearing the night he was... the night he was... attacked, had nothing on this one. The kaftan billowed out around his slim frame, the leggings clung to his legs. His hair made Howard want to run his hands through it, over and over again...

He opened his mouth to say 'yes', but nothing came out. Pete filled the silence.

"Where you dragging him out to then? Some seedy club where you'll abandon him first chance you get and go off drinking alcopops with your little mates?"

Vince shook his hair back off his face in a casual and yet deeply sensual movement. He regarded Pete for a few seconds, then grinned slowly.

"No, actually. I thought we'd go to Rooms 108. I've booked us a table for eight. You alright with that Howard?"

Howard's jaw would have dropped even further if it was physically possible. Rooms 108 was the hottest new jazz restaurant and bar in town. You sat at a table and ate your meal, which was proper five star cuisine, all the while being serenaded by the live jazz band, a band handpicked by the management for the excellence of their music. There was even a little shop in the corner of the restaurant where they sold rare jazz records and other paraphernalia. Howard had dreamt of going there ever since it opened. But because of its reputation (the critics loved it) it had always been fully booked. Plus, it was _really_ expensive.

There was silence for a few moments. Pete looked completely nonplussed, Vince doubted whether he knew what Rooms 108 even was. Howard seemed to be having trouble forming a sentence, but he managed at last.

"Vince... how did you, I mean, it's so popular... a table at eight?"

Vince beamed, and right in that second Howard saw clearly the innocent Vince of old. The constantly happy, go-lucky Vince that Howard had worked with in the Zooniverse.

"Listen Howard. I've got contacts yeah? I know people in this town. It didn't take long, just a coupla quick calls and we're in. So if you're up for it, we'd better head out now. It's quarter to, and they're dead keen on punctuality there apparently."

Howard grinned. "Sounds like my kind of place, sir! See you later Pete."

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Rooms 108 was everything Howard had dreamt of, and more. They had been seated at one of the best tables in the room, close enough to see and hear the band clearly, but far enough away so that they could actually hear themselves talk. Naturally all the eyes had been on Vince when they'd walked in, but this time Howard thought it was because they'd never seen anything quite so bright and shiny in all their lives, rather than them being members of Vince's extremely large fan club. The room was decorated in muted shades of brown and orange, and there were large pictures adorning the walls of various famous jazz musicians. As they were seated by an obseqious maitre'd, Howard suddenly realised exactly how selfless Vince had been in organising this evening for them. Selfless wasn't a word that Howard would have thought of in describing Vince to someone in the past year or so, and yet here he was, sitting opposite Howard in a jazz restaurant. He'd organised it all, used his contacts to get them into somewhere he'd never usually be seen dead in _and_ he was apparently paying for it all too. He'd come prepared though. Howard had seen the tube of Savlon in his glittery silver bag, just in case his allergies became too strong.

"So, what do you think Howard?" Vince was looking at Howard anxiously, hoping that he'd chosen well. Howard had talked about little else ever since this place had opened, and was constantly moaning the fact that it was always booked up. Vince had pulled some strings, and here they were.

Howard was gazing around him with something akin to awe on his generic features.

"This... this is amazing Vince. But what about your allergies? We're not gonna have a great evening if you swell up like a beachball are we?"

Vince gave a devil-may-care shrug. "Ahh well. I'm sure it'll be fine. Anyway, if I do get ill, you can look after me can't you?" He looked at Howard with a cheeky glint in his eye. "I reckoned you needed a good night out after... after the incident." That was how they referred to it now. The incident.

Howard nodded but didn't say anything. Just as they never really referred to Vince's horrific experience now, they also never mentioned what had happened in the bathroom the morning after. Looking at Vince across the table, Howard realised that this situation could easily be mistaken by someone for a date. And he was strangely comfortable with that idea. Vince's blue eyes were sparkling in the dim light and he looked happier than he had done in a long time.

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An hour later and Vince had drunk two malibu and coke doubles and was feeling pleasantly light-headed. Howard had had three small glasses of a delicious red wine and was heading the same way. The music was soothing him, the band were excellent, just as the reviews had said. The food was amazing. Vince had chosen some pasta, but had asked for it to be served as a child's portion. He said he wasn't particularly hungry after the Haribo he'd had before they'd gone out. Howard had the remains of a large steak sitting in front of him.

Howard looked at his best mate. Vince's cheeks were attractively flushed due to the alcohol and his hair was ruffled from the amount of times he'd run his hands through it. Howard got the same impulse he'd had back at the flat. He wanted to be the one to run his hands through those lush dark locks. Mentally he slapped himself. It must be the alcohol talking. He wasn't used to drinking this much, and reckoned he was probably a lot drunker than Vince, who was out drinking most nights and had therefore built up his resistance to it.

"No ill effects little man?" Howard asked. Vince had taken several trips to the loo recently, Howard guessed it was to apply Savlon to areas of Vince afflicted by the jazz.

"Actually some of its alright. Mostly rubbish, course, but some is okay." Vince flashed Howard a quick smile, to show him that he was only joking. Howard was just impressed that Vince had lasted as long as he had.

"Well listen Vince, thanks so much for tonight. This place is perfect." Vince laughed.

"Yeah, perfect for jazzy freaks like you!"

"Oh you're a lost cause little man. You'll never understand the perfect concept that is jazz, all the amazing movements..."

Vince let Howard ramble on for a while. He wasn't listening to what he was saying. He was watching the way Howard would gesture wildly with his hands, the way he would bite his lower lip when he was trying to find the right word to describe something, the way his body language had completely opened up, relaxing against the back of his chair, one arm flung over the back, the other cradling his wine glass. Howard realised he'd been nattering on for a while and fell silent. He raised his glass to his lips and took a small sip of wine. Vince had never realised just how attractive Howard could become when he was getting passionate about something.

Maybe it was the alcohol but Vince couldn't help himself picturing what else Howard might get passionate about. There was a smear of red wine on Howard's lips that Vince just longed to kiss off.

Finally they decided to call it a night, but not before Howard checked out the gift shop. He bought a jazz record which was apparently 'unique' and would sell like a 'hot cake' in the Nabootique when he handed it over to Naboo. Vince had his doubts, but for some reason he didn't voice them.

They decided to walk back to the flat rather than take a taxi. The night was mild, and the sky was clear and pitch black, full of stars.

Vince bounced along, thrilled that Howard had had a good night. The jazz had affected him slightly more than he'd let on, but he hadn't wanted to ruin the experience for Howard. Best of all they hadn't argued or hurled insults at each other all night. They'd bickered in their time-honoured fashion, gently ribbing each other, but there was absolutely no malice in it. Something had changed though. There was a tension in the air that hadn't been there before in the zoo. Or maybe it had but hadn't been so pronounced. Their kiss in the bathroom had changed everything.

"Howard?"

"Yes little man?"

"You know the stars?"

Howard looked a little wary. "Yeesss..."

"Well, do you reckon that's all the guys in heaven shining torches?"

Howard laughed. "No Vince. The stars are balls of gas burning miles and miles away."

"No way! Really?"

"Really."

Vince was silent for a while. In due course they turned into the road that led to their flat. Howard glanced at his mate as they walked. Vince was still bouncing along, hair glinting in the moonlight. There was a slight breeze and his kaftan was billowing around him. He had a huge grin on his face. Howard didn't think he'd ever looked more beautiful.

Finally they reached the door to the flat. Vince started fiddling around in his bag, searching for the keys. Howard moved forward to help him and Vince looked up. Time seemed to freeze. Howard was staring into Vince's eyes. He realised he should move away. This was a very dangerous position to be in. He'd had too much to drink. But he couldn't. He couldn't move away. He was so close he could feel Vince's breath on his cheek.

Vince had looked up to put the key in the lock, and found Howard standing very, very close to him. Why was he standing so close? This was the man who screamed at Vince about respecting his personal space on a regular basis. Howard's pupils were slightly dilated and he was breathing heavily. Vince felt his own breath hitch slightly in his chest. Was he reading this situation right? Did Howard really want to...

Howard told him without words. The bigger man leaned forward and kissed Vince chastely on the lips. Little prickles spread all over Vince's body. He grabbed at Howard and pulled him closer. Their lips met again and Vince nibbled gently on Howard's lower lip. Howard groaned deep in his throat and pushed Vince rather violently against the door to the flat. Vince moaned and started probing at Howard's mouth with his tongue, demanding entrance. After a brief hesitation Howard allowed it. A brief thought flashed through his mind that he really shouldn't be doing this, but his body was refusing to obey his brain by this point. Their tongues worked together in a perfect fit. Vince was raking his hands through Howard's soft brown hair, and Howard raised his own hands to the nape of Vince's neck and played with the dark strands of hair which made the smaller man shudder with pleasure. The kiss became more and more passionate. Howard's hands started roaming over Vince's hips, feeling the taut stomach and the silky material of the kaftan. Vince had knotted his hands around Howard's waist, pulling the bigger man as close to him as was physically possible.

After about five minutes they broke apart, panting. Vince's hair was sticking up in all directions, his cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were even bigger than usual. Without saying a word Howard took the key from Vince's unresisting hand and unlocked the door. The flat was completely quiet as they made their way upstairs. Pete clearly wasn't back yet, and for that Howard was incredibly thankful. He'd gone beyond the point of no return. Standing in the middle of the living room Vince and Howard stared at each other. Slowly Vince took off his kaftan, and dropped it casually on the living room floor. He'd made his move. Now Howard had to make up his mind.

**Argghhh! Will they, won't they? Will they, won't they? Reviews are love, let me know what you think. Au Revoir (as they say in le gay Paree)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the reviews, keep 'em coming! In response to Mowgli in Flares I was thinking of the Lion King with the star bit as well! **

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Boosh there would be far more Howince on a regular basis. But I don't. So... there isn't.**

**Warning: Contains more homosexual action. Nothing too graphic cos I'm a bit crap at writing that kind of stuff, but if you feel the rating should go up let me know. Currently rated T. Also angst by the bucketload...**

**Enjoy!**

Howard couldn't take his eyes off Vince. The younger man was standing in the middle of the living room, his kaftan crumpled by his feet. Howard could see the vivid mark of the Nicky Clark scar near Vince's hipbone, along with the fading remains of the bruises from the incident. This was a moment he'd dreamt about for so long, and now it was here he was just... paralysed. Vince was standing in front of him, dressed only in his clinging silver leggings and black boots. He was so close Howard could just reach out and touch him, but his muscles seemed to have frozen in place. This was getting ridiculous. He was within grabbing distance of all he'd ever wanted. And yet the one thought that was going through his mind was a constant _I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay._ If you say something enough times you start to believe it. That's what his brain was saying. His body was saying something very different. He'd only kissed Vince and already he could feel himself stirring. He was simply rooted to the spot. He couldn't move.

Vince stood in front of Howard, outwardly calm, but his insides were in turmoil. This could either be the cleverest or the most stupid thing he'd ever done. He knew Howard. Knew him back to front. Although he thought that Howard was attracted to him he was starting to think he could be wrong. Howard had kissed him twice now, sure. But though he was now standing in front of him, literally offering himself to his best mate, Howard wasn't moving. Vince could see a mixture of emotions flitting across the small brown eyes. He had no idea what Howard was thinking. Despair, a sensation he wasn't too familiar with, settled in his stomach like a dead weight. He'd freaked him out. He'd moved too fast and now Howard would hate him forever. He'd go back to Leeds and move in with Pete... Vince couldn't help himself. A tiny tear escaped from the corner of one bright blue eye. Dashing it away angrily he turned away.

Suddenly Howard saw Vince's eyes fill with doubt and worry. The smaller man's slim figure tensed and to Howard's horror he saw a tear trickle down Vince's cheek. Then his best mate turned away, towards his bedroom, his shoulders slumped. No, no, no, no, no! He couldn't let Vince go. He had to be a man-of-action, for once in his life. And for once in his life his body obeyed. Howard sprang forward and clutched Vince's arm, drawing him back. Vince stared up at him. Howard leaned forward and tentatively kissed Vince again, and then drew back.

"Howard... are you sure this is what you want?" Howard was sobering up quickly now from the walk home. His mind was clearer, his thoughts more lucid. And yet he knew that there was only one answer.

"Yes," he murmured, almost inaudibly.

Smiling Vince wrapped both arms around the bigger man and claimed his lips with a passionate kiss that took them both unawares. Tendrils of desire were shooting through Vince's body and he felt himself stiffening. Howard was biting on Vince's lip, his tongue was tracing the inside of Vince's mouth, his hands were moving through the smaller man's precious mane of hair. Vince moaned softly, his knees buckling. Howard broke away, chuckling when Vince made a soft moue of disappointment. He picked Vince up, and Vince immediately wrapped his legs around Howard's waist. Vince's hardness was pressing against the bigger man's stomach, and this made Howard move frantically towards the door of the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Vince's. Opening the door did prove to be a slight impediment but they solved it. Howard kept one arm supporting Vince and used his other to turn the doorknob. Vince nuzzled his face into Howard's neck, kissing him lightly in a way that made Howard shudder.

The bedroom was dark, but the curtains were open, letting the moonlight spill into the room. Howard stumbled over to Vince's bed and dropped the electro rock'n'roll star onto the bright duvet. This was it. He was actually going to go through with this. Howard was so aroused he could barely think. All he could see was Vince Noir lying on his back on his duvet, naked from the waist up, dark hair pooling around his face on the pillow, large blue eyes looking up at him. Howard understood. Vince was letting him make the moves. He didn't want to pressure him into doing anything he didn't want to do.

Carefully Howard took off Vince's boots, and put them gently down on the floor. His life probably wouldn't be worth living if they got damaged. He was shaking as he knelt on the end of the bed and ran his hands up Vince's slim legs. The smaller man shivered with desire which encouraged Howard to slip his fingers under the waistband of the silver leggings. Vince arched his back and lifted his hips off the duvet, allowing Howard to pull the glittery leggings off.

The older man paused, uncertain of what he should do next. He knew what he would _like_ to do, but felt incredibly anxious. Vince seemed to read the hesitation in Howard's eyes. He reached up and pulled his best mate to him, kissing him gently, reassuring him that it was all okay. Vince knelt in Howard's lap and his hands started undoing the buttons on Howard's best nutmeg shirt, the shirt he'd put on in honour of going to Rooms 108 at last. The buttons were fiddly but at last the shirt was loose and slipped off Howard's broad shoulders. The jazz maverick shook it loose and threw it to the floor. He didn't have the same attitude that Vince had when it came to clothes. Vince kissed Howard deeply and ran his hands all over the bigger man's chest and back. He grinned wickedly at Howard, then bent his head and ran his tongue softly over Howard's nipples.

"Oh my God... Vince!" It was a sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Vince felt Howard hardening quickly against his thigh and grinned. Slowly, tantalisingly, Vince dropped little kisses all the way down Howard's chest right down to his hip. Once he was there he undid the hideous cordoroy trousers. He could feel Howard's breath quicken in desire and the bulge in his lap was unmistakeable. Together they removed the cordoroy creation, along with Howard's shoes and socks.

Lying together on the bed they kissed slowly and deeply. Vince's hand crept down past Howard's stomach, and then he gently slid his fingers into Howard's boxers. Howard let out a ragged gasp. Vince grinned into Howard's mouth and played with the bigger man for a few minutes, running his slender fingers up and down, and round and round, enjoying the moans he was eliciting from his best friend.

Howard felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. God, wasn't it just a few months ago that he'd as much as told Vince on the roof he'd never even held hands with anyone? And now here he was, about to lose his virginity, to his beautiful Vince. He honestly didn't think he could be happier – or more nervous. He could feel Vince's erection still pressing insistently against his thigh. Surely he could do the same thing? It couldn't be much different to what he enjoyed himself. Tentatively he reached one large hand into the smaller man's boxers. Vince abruptly arched his back, almost crying out.

"H-Howard?"

"Mmm-hmm?" Howard responded, idly letting his fingers trail up and down Vince's length.

"You don't h-have to you know." Vince seemed to be under the impression that Howard was pleasuring him under some sense of obligation.

"I _want_ to," Howard assured him, silencing his friend with a deep kiss. Vince groaned in contentment and allowed Howard to continue.

Soon enough they were both aching for more. Vince was melting, his brain (never his most reliable organ) seemed to have turned to mush. Vince had a sneaking suspicion that if he ventured into his brain room right now he'd find the singular cell passed out on the disco-style floor.

"Howard, second drawer down," he finally managed to croak. Howard looked confused for a second, and then realisation dawned. He reached across Vince to the chest of drawers by the bed and rooted around in it until he found what he was looking for.

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Vince personally had had better sex in the technical sense. But because it was Howard he thought that it had been the most pleasurable experience he'd had in ages. All his usual Camden dolly birds (and boys) paled into utter insignificance. Here he was, curled up next to the jazz maverick, his head fitting neatly into the crook of Howard's arm and he'd never been happier. They'd made love nearly all night, in the light of the moon shining through the crack in the curtains. Vince thought that Howard was the most beautiful person in the world. His body was muscular and oh so manly, unlike most of the stick insects that Vince found himself with night after night. Sure Howard's technique could have used a little work, but he had got better and better as the hours had worn on.

Slowly Vince eased himself out of the bed, pulled on boxers, knotted a towel around himself and headed to the bathroom. He was going to wake Howard up with a cup of tea and toast in bed. Opening the bedroom door he was shocked and dismayed to see Pete sitting on the sofa in the living area, watching t.v. Pete turned towards him slowly, a horrible, knowing smirk on his face.

"Have fun last night, did ya?" he asked.

Vince clutched his towel tighter around his waist.

"Was good, yeah." He made to go to the bathroom, but suddenly Pete was standing right in front of him. How he'd moved that fast Vince simply didn't know. A large hand shot out and grabbed Vince around the throat, slamming him into the wall. Vince squealed and dropped the towel. Pete's other hand clamped over his mouth, stopping him from making a sound.

"I don't know how you did it, you cheap fucking slut..." Pete's voice was low and rough, and incredibly menacing, "... but from now on you stay the _fuck_ away from Howard, alright? I'm not going to let him be contaminated by the likes of you, understand?"

Pete's hand was pressing so hard into Vince's windpipe, all he could do was choke and cough.

"He doesn't even like you much anyway. He was always whining to me on the phone about what a little bitch you had become, constantly putting him down, never making time to be with him, getting him fired because you were distracted by a shiny cape..." Pete's voice was dripping with disdain. "You don't deserve Howard, Vince Noir. You're a dirty little whore. You spend your time fucking your way around Camden, and who has to pick up the pieces? Howard. And he's getting sick of it. I should know, he moans to me about you often enough." He released the pressure on Vince's throat slightly.

"You're lying..." Vince choked out, tears welling in his blue eyes.

"Why would I lie? I'm the only one Howard talks to nowadays. I'm his only true friend. He said it used to be you, but you've been bullying him so much recently. He hasn't talked to you properly in ages he said. You changed when you left the Zoo. He doesn't talk to that Lester bloke, quite frankly he sounds like an absolute basketcase. Face it Vince. You're shallow, you're selfish and you're a coward. Howard doesn't want to know."

And with those stinging parting words Pete slammed Vince into the wall once more for emphasis, and then calmly went back to the sofa, engrossed in his programme. Vince slid down the wall of the flat, gasping for breath.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. They'd had such a lovely, magical night together. Why would Howard do something like that if he didn't even like Vince? _Maybe_, said a little voice in Vince's head, _maybe it's a way to get back at you. You let him know you liked him, with that kiss in the bathroom_. No, thought Vince frantically. Howard would never do that. _The Howard you knew wouldn't_, continued the little voice. _But you've been growing apart recently, it's true. You have been a bitch to him, admit it._ No, no, no, no, no. Vince shook his head, tears dripping down his cheeks. Howard wouldn't sleep with me just for revenge. _Maybe you drove him to it_. Vince lifted his head. Maybe he had. When he thought about how he'd behaved to Howard in the few years since they'd left the Zoo he started to feel physically sick. He didn't have an excuse. He'd pretty much _bullied_ Howard. He'd eaten a part of Howard's much loved rare jazz LP. He'd sold him out as a prostitute to Eleanor, and then buggered off when he saw Pete Neon, leaving Howard to his fate. He hadn't protected him from the Student Loans. He'd spray painted all that stuff on the front of the shop. He'd let Howard get fired from the Nabootique (albeit briefly) for something that was all his fault just because he got distracted by a shiny cape. My God, thought Vince, horrified. Who _wouldn't_ hate him after he'd done all that? He'd done it as a laugh, none of it was meant maliciously, but he should know above everyone how Howard would store every little thing up inside his mind. And maybe after the kiss, after Howard saw how upset his rejection had made Vince, he'd decided on the perfect revenge. He'd fuck him and then move on again.

Vince crawled into the bathroom and curled into a ball on the floor, the cold tiles pressing against his skin. Pete was right. He didn't deserve Howard. He never had.

**Hope you're not too depressed, though a quick warning, this is going to get worse before it gets better... **

**Reviews are love, they make me happy. Suggestions more than welcome!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Hey all, thanks so much for all your reviews, they're really lovely and I'm glad you like the story! There have been several requests for me to kill Pete/get rid of him/lock him in a trunk all alone with the Hitcher... (no I made that one up!) Anyway never fear, things will get better... eventually. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Boosh**

**Warning: Angst, angst and more angst**

When Howard woke up his head was pounding. His mouth felt like something had crawled in there during the night and died. He must have been drunker than he thought, what did he do last night? Gradually hazy memories started to leak through the fog in his brain. He and Vince had gone to Rooms 108, and had an amazing night. They'd walked back home together and then... ohhhh. Briefly Howard wondered if maybe that wasn't a dream. A delicious dream where he'd lost his virginity to his best friend. And then he noticed the rumpled sheets, the telltale stains. And when he twisted his face to the side he could smell the gorgeous scent that was Vince on the pillow next to him. Dizzying joy gave way to terrible anxiety. Vince never got up before eleven, and the clock on the side said it was half past nine in the morning. So why wasn't Vince curled up next to him? Worriedly Howard swung his legs out of bed, grabbed his dressing-gown and went into the living room.

There was no sign of Vince, just Pete sitting on the sofa watching televison.

"You alright mate?" Pete said, turning to look at Howard. Howard was alarmed to see that Pete looked slightly concerned.

"Yeah, why shouldn't I be? Listen, have you seen Vince?" Pete's face fell, and he looked even more worried.

"Ahh, yeah, he's in there," he jerked a thumb towards the bathroom door, then called out as Howard moved toward it, "Howard, I'd wait for a bit, if I were you."

"What? Why?"

Pete gestured for Howard to come and sit down on the sofa next to him. "Listen, I'm your mate, yeah? What I'm telling you is for your own good, you gotta know that."

Howard scratched at his tousled brown hair in bewilderment.

"Tell me what, Pete?"

Pete seemed to be struggling to find the words. "Well, I was just in here watching t.v., yeah, when Vince comes out the bedroom looking like death warmed up. So I ask him what's up, and he said he just made the biggest mistake of his life."

Howard felt like someone had just submerged him in a vat full of ice, numbing all his feelings and thoughts. Blood pounded sluggishly through his veins, a dull ache settled into a regular rhythm in his head.

"A... a m-mistake?"

Pete's ice-grey eyes were apologetic. "Yeah. Um, he mumbled something about a bet with some mates, said it wasn't worth forty euros in the end..."

Howard couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Vince, his best friend Vince, had taken his virginity from him for... for a bet? Surely he wouldn't do that. He knew that Vince could be thoughtless, insensitive sometimes, but _cruel_? But then again, maybe that side had always been there. Everything had changed since they left the Zoo. Vince had started hanging out with his Camden mates more than Howard, he'd definitely started to distance himself from him. That had been part of the reason Howard had been so anxious to get Pete to visit, to show Vince that he _did_ have friends, or a friend. He didn't need to rely on Vince to take pity on him every once in a while. And Pete _was_ his friend. He'd never deserted Howard, not even when he suspected that Howard might be gay – something that he didn't approve of.

Pete was talking again. "Look Howard mate, if you're a poofter then there's nothing I can say really. Apart from the fact that you could definitely do a whole lot better than Vince Noir. He's shallow and selfish, he doesn't care about your feelings at all. He's not the same person he was in the Zoo. Even I can tell that."

Horribly Pete was making a lot of sense. Howard felt the ice disappear from his brain, and a white-hot anger was taking its place. He almost felt like he _hated_ Vince.

Just then, the bathroom door opened.

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Vince had sat in the bathroom for quite a while, staring blankly into space and not thinking of anything much. He could hear murmurings from outside, though he couldn't make out any words. It was probably Pete and Howard laughing about how stupid he was, how naive he'd been to think that Howard could possibly feel the same way about him. Vince felt ashamed, and dirty. But simmering below the surface was a blazing anger. Yes, he'd done some bad things to Howard, but he'd never meant any of them in a nasty way. And hadn't he constantly saved Howard's life at the Zoo, and even once they'd moved out of it? Howard would be the unhappy husband of a transsexual merman by now if it hadn't been for Vince and Naboo's submarine. Vince pulled himself up off the floor and grabbed the handle of the bathroom door.

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Even through his anger Howard couldn't deny that Vince looked gorgeous standing in the doorway of the bathroom. His hair looked soft and silky, not pumped full of chemicals like it usually was. Vince's eyes were slightly bloodshot but still the same luminous blue that pierced right to Howard's heart. He was wearing just boxers, which to Howard's dismay sent thrills of desire racing through his body. He hardly looked like death warmed up. But then, that was Vince, wasn't it, thought Howard bitterly. He just _had_ to go into the bathroom and make sure he looked alright after making the _biggest mistake of his life_. Pete's words pounded in his head.

"Alright?" he snapped out, unable to hide the contempt from his tone. Vince recoiled slightly as if hit. Then Howard saw anger fill those big blue eyes, and Vince straightened up.

"Not bad. I've been better." So it was true, Howard thought, bitterly. Vince _did_ regret sleeping with him. Pete hadn't lied to him, it had been a stupid bet with his mates all along.

"You evil little bitch." The words just slipped out of him, he hadn't meant them to. For a split second he hoped that Vince hadn't heard, but of course he had.

Vince blinked. He'd hoped that Pete had been lying, that Howard didn't really hate him. From the second he'd opened the door and clocked Howard standing by the sofa though, he knew Pete was right. Howard was staring at him in hatred and disgust, hands clenched into fists at his sides. And from the moment he spoke, Vince could tell that he really was nothing in Howard's eyes, that Howard had slept with him out of revenge, and was now ready to revel in Vince's humiliation. Well, he wouldn't let him have that privilege. He wouldn't let his broken heart show.

"_Not bad. I've been better."_

No way was he letting on that until Pete had talked to him in the living area he'd been the happiest he'd been for months. No way was he letting Howard realise that all he wanted to do, even now, was just curl up next to him and feel his arms around him, soothing him back into sleep.

"_You evil little bitch."_ The four words each stung Vince like he'd been hit. And with each word a little bit of his heart and hope died. Vince could feel himself emotionally shutting down. It was his method of survival, he'd done it at school with the bullies and he'd done it in the alley with the thugs. Never had he thought he'd have to do it with Howard.

"Yeah, whatever Howard." He stepped forward, ready to go back into the bedroom to collect his clothes and get changed in the bathroom. Suddenly Howard was blocking him in, blocking his way to his bedroom.

He looked up at his best mate with hostility.

"Excuse me. I'm trying to walk here."

"Oh yeah, you're just going to walk away are you? Like you always do? You know your problem, Vince? You never face up to any of your problems. You just hide your head in the sand like the selfish little coward you are."

"You're an idiot Howard. Now let me pass, I've got better things to do with my time than waste it standing here talking to you."

"Oh yeah, right. You're gonna go and dress yourself up like a prostitute and go hang out with those stupid mates of yours aren't you? Wasting your life away doing absolutely nothing."

Vince lost his already shaky composure.

"Wasting my life away? What about you, you freak? All you do is organise your sodding stationary, rave about jazz and go to that jazzercise class for the mentally retarded. So what if you think I'm wasting my life? At least I have one. You have nothing and no-one, cause no-one likes you. Mrs Gideon thought you were the biggest freak on the planet and no wonder..." Vince stopped short at the expression on Howard's face. The bigger man's eyes were clouded with furious anger and he looked almost... psychotic. Vince's eyes widened as he saw Howard's fist clench, and before he had time to react the fist had made solid contact with his jaw.

Howard punched Vince so hard his slender body almost literally flew backwards, hitting the flat wall for the second time that morning (had Howard known it), and crumpling to the ground. Howard sank back onto the arm of the sofa, one hand clamped over his mouth in shock, the other hanging limply by his side. He'd hit Vince. That just wasn't supposed to happen. No-one hit Vince. Ever. Hitting Vince was almost tantamount to child abuse. Vince was like an energetic child, who you could get annoyed with every so often, but never _ever_ struck. And now by the looks of it, he was unconscious. He was lying on his side on the floor of the flat, legs crumpled at an awkward angle beneath him, dark hair falling over his face. He definitely wasn't moving.

Howard felt a hand on his shoulder. He'd almost forgotten that Pete was still here and had witnessed the whole thing. Unknown to Howard, Pete had a smug smirk plastered all over his face, but his voice, when he spoke to Howard, was gentle.

"You did the right thing, mate. He needs to know that he can't push you around anymore." Howard was too stunned to answer. He just sat, staring at his best mate lying on the floor of their flat. Just then they heard the buzzer for the door downstairs going, and Naboo's voice came over the tannoy.

"It's Naboo and Bollo, let us in you ballbags."

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Since Howard seemed to be incapable of moving, Pete got up and reluctantly pressed the buzzer to allow the shaman and his familiar access to the flat. Soon two sets of footsteps were heard tramping up the stairs.

Naboo came into the room first, and stopped short at the sight in front of him.

"What's going on 'ere?" he cried, eyes latching onto Vince's prone form on the floor, and Howard still sitting as if frozen on the side of the sofa. Pete took it upon himself to explain.

"Um, the boys had a bit of a fight."

"Yeah, I can see that! Bollo, get Vince a blanket will ya? And grab some clothes from 'is room." Bollo grunted and shuffled off into Vince's bedroom, casting a dark look at Howard as he went. Naboo ignored Pete and strode straight across to Howard, holding the bigger man firmly by the shoulders.

"Howard? Howard? Howard, tell me what happened. Tell me what happened now!" Blinking, Howard focussed on Naboo's face briefly, but then his eyes slid away, full of shame.

"Howard, you didn't. Tell me you didn't hit Vince."

"I-I-I did. I h-hit him. But, but... he... we'd and I thought... but he..." Naboo realised it was useless talking to Howard while he was obviously deep in shock. Bollo came shuffling back from Vince's room, holding a bright gold blanket over one arm, and a bag in the other, clearly stuffed full of Vince's clothes.

"Bollo, get Vince. We're going back to the shop. Pete can look after Howard. These two need some space from each other for a bit." Carefully, balancing the bag and the blanket, Bollo scooped up Vince from the floor, and started heading towards the stairs. Vince's head flopped back over Bollo's arm, his hair falling back from his face, showing the beginnings of livid bruises on his jawline and his forehead where he'd hit the wall. As Bollo began thumping downstairs with his precious cargo Howard suddenly seemed to come back to life. He leapt up from the sofa and lunged towards the stairs.

"Vince! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry! Vince!" Naboo held out a hand and Howard was held in the same position, stopped from moving any further. Shaking his head sadly Naboo followed Bollo down the steps. Howard remained frozen until the door had shut quietly with a click downstairs. Then he was released, and he slumped to the floor, cradling his head in his hands, tears spurting from between his fingers.

"I'm so sorry Vince. I'm sorry. Forgive me."

**Arghh! So a bit of a melodramatic ending I know, but I couldn't resist. Don't worry, everything about Pete will be explained, who he is and what he wants, etc. Reviews are love. Update might be in a couple of days because we're enjoying lovely weather here, sun (in England!) and I have to make the most of it! xxx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I'm back! Sun is still blazing, but I thought I'd take a break from sunbathing and bring you all the next update. Sorry it took so long, but wanted to get this chapter just right.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and I never will, unless Father Christmas actually listens to my wishes once in a while...**

**Warning: Violence and bad language.**

Vince opened his eyes slowly. It took him a moment to focus, and work out exactly where he was. His gaze travelled slowly around the room, taking in all the furniture and decorations. He was back at his old room in the Nabootique. He'd been carefully wrapped in his favourite gold blanket, but underneath that he was still naked apart from the boxers he'd been wearing back at his and Howard's flat. Howard. Oh yes. The last thing Vince remembered was seeing Howard's clenched fist heading towards his face, and the shock as it had connected. He also remembered seeing Pete sitting on the sofa, grinning smugly. That son of a bitch. Vince was certain that there was something wrong about Pete. There was the way he didn't like Vince for a start, _everybody_ liked Vince. Except for Pete, and now, apparently, Howard. He didn't buy it. Vince didn't think very often, but now he was he was racking his brains to try and think of an explanation. Inside his head he could hear his brain cell complaining loudly about how on earth he was supposed to spend quality time with his receptionist and the latest trends if he had to cope with all this unusual activity, but Vince ignored him. He needed to figure this out. His friendship with Howard was on the line.

Vince didn't blame Howard for hitting him. It had only been a matter of time really. Vince was aware that he'd been pushing and pushing his best mate, seeing how far he could bait him. Well, now he knew. He'd royally cocked up the whole situation, hadn't he? He was sure not many people could claim that they'd taken their best mate's virginity and then got knocked unconscious by them the morning after. That was a fairly roundabout turn of emotion. Vince felt heat flow through his slim frame as he remembered the feeling of Howard's lips on his, the way the bigger man had grasped his hips as he'd thrust, the way he'd stroked Vince's pale cheek with almost unbearable tenderness. And then he remembered the hatred, anger and disgust in Howard's small brown eyes the morning after. Something _must_ have happened to make Howard feel that way. Vince just had to figure out what. He remembered hearing Pete and Howard talking in the living area while he'd been in the bathroom. What had they been talking about? He'd assumed they'd both been laughing at him, taking the piss. But what if Pete had been poisoning Howard's mind against Vince? If he really thought about it (his braincell groaned in defeat), that made perfect sense. Pete didn't like homosexuals, or bisexuals. He'd never liked Vince, probably for this exact reason. He had some sort of attachment to Howard that was bordering on obsessive. And who was Howard's closest friend? Vince. Vince remembered what Pete had spat at him when he'd come out of the bedroom.

"_He doesn't even like you much anyway. He was always whining to me on the phone about what a little bitch you had become, constantly putting him down, never making time to be with him, getting him fired because you were distracted by a shiny cape..."_

"_...he's getting sick of it. I should know, he moans to me about you often enough."_

"_Face it Vince. You're shallow, you're selfish and you're a coward. Howard doesn't want to know."_

At the time he'd been so devastated and mixed-up in his feelings, he hadn't really thought about what Pete had said. Now that he was thinking about it, somehow it didn't ring true. Howard had been so tender that night, and whenever Vince had looked into his eyes he'd seen nothing but absolute trust and... love. There was no bitterness, no cruel glint, just unconditional love. And you didn't look at someone like that during a revenge fuck. No-one was that good an actor, and definitely not Howard (much as he might try to delude himself into thinking otherwise.)

Defiantly swinging his slim legs out of bed Vince got up, staggered slightly, and headed over to the door. He was going to find Naboo and sort this whole thing out. Now that he'd finally got Howard, he wasn't willing to let him go. He was going to find out the truth.

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Naboo was in his room, sorting out his turbans and muttering to himself about the next damned shaman meeting he had to attend. From what Vince could gather from the muttering it turned out that Dennis had gone on some sort of weird power trip and was dead-set on stamping his authority over their little group. This meant that Naboo was now obliged to go to a meeting once every week, and put up with Tony Harrison's mildly retarded mumblings and Saboo's snide jibes.

"Oh, you're up are ya?" Naboo noticed Vince hovering at his door. "How's your jaw feeling?"

"Sore," Vince muttered, rubbing a hand against his face. "Who knew Howard was so strong?"

"Did you want anything, Vince? Only I'm a little busy right now. And where's Bollo, he was supposed to be helping me pack! Honestly Barry was right, I need an upgrade."

"Yeah actually Naboo. I wanted to talk to you about Pete."

Naboo's face clouded over. Ever since he'd met the guy he'd had a weird feeling deep in his gut that something wasn't right about him. He'd meant to follow it up and do a bit of digging, but with the now weekly shaman meetings he just hadn't had time.

"Oh yeah? What about 'im?" he asked guardedly.

"I think he's trying to poison Howard's mind against me, Naboo. I don't know what his problem is, but I'm gonna find out. Don't suppose you mind giving me a bit of a hand?" Naboo paused, in the middle of trying to force his seventh turban into his already ridiculously full suitcase.

"Why do you think he's poisoning Howard's mind against you?"

Vince shuffled his feet, clearly embarrassed. "Well, um. You know last night I took Howard to Rooms 108? Well, when we came back we sorta... you know... we um, well..."

"Spit it out Vince," Naboo muttered wearily.

"We slept together," Vince blurted. He'd expected Naboo to look shocked, surprised, maybe even disgusted. What he hadn't expected was the wry grin that settled across the Shaman's small face.

"At last. Thought it was never gonna happen."

"You knew?"

"Knew it was only a matter of time. It was fairly obvious, Vince."

"Right. Well, anyway, the next morning Pete starts warning me off Howard, saying that I'm no good for him, blah blah." He didn't mention the slamming against the wall incident. "So I go off into the bathroom and hear Pete and Howard talking outside, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Next thing I know I've come out the bathroom and Howard's furious with me, I got angry back and... well, you know the rest," he finished lamely.

"That would be when Howard punched your lights out," Naboo finished in a completely deadpan tone.

"Erm, yeah."

"Right. Well, I will say I do think there's something dodgy about Pete. I'll give you as much help as I can, but I am really busy at the moment."

Vince started backing out of the room before the tiny Shaman could change his mind.

"Cheers Naboo, you're a diamond."

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Howard was woken by the sun streaming through the gap in his curtains. He rubbed a hand across his face, and sat up blearily. His head was throbbing and the bright light was hurting his eyes. Gradually memories started seeping back into his mind.

After Naboo and Bollo had taken Vince back to the Nabootique he'd sat in shock for most of the morning. Pete had spent a lot of time on his mobile, chatting to mates from back home and some of the guys he'd met down the pub. Howard had moped around the flat for nearly all of the afternoon, placing call after call to Vince's mobile, none of which were ever picked up. To be honest though, he'd had no idea of what he'd actually say if Vince had picked up. There was nothing to be said. Banter and the odd bickering had made up their relationship so far, but never actual physical violence. Howard felt sick to his stomach as he realised how hard he must have punched his best friend, his hand was still hurting the morning after – he'd actually knocked Vince unconscious. Eventually Pete had got tired of his moping and dragged him off down the pub in town with all of his new mates. Howard by that point had given up caring, and had set about the hard task of drinking himself into oblivion. He had hazy memories of Pete calling them a taxi at about three in the morning. He was also pretty sure that he'd either thrown up _in_ the taxi or at least outside the door to the flat. He couldn't understand how Vince did it. Yes the alcohol had gone some way to making him forget his problems, but surely nothing was worth the hangover in the morning?

Groaning, he staggered out of bed, flung on his dressing-gown and went in search of a cup of tea and some aspirin. Pete was sat on the sofa in the living room, a cup of steaming strong coffee sat in front of him and a bacon sandwich on a plate. He looked up as Howard shuffled towards the kitchen.

"You alright, mate? Great night, eh?" Howard merely muttered something in reply and started boiling the kettle. He couldn't help but think that if it had been Vince in the flat instead of Pete, Vince would have looked in to see if he wanted a cup of coffee as well. Vince knew that Howard wasn't used to alcohol, and so did Pete. Howard knew more than anyone that Vince could be selfish but whenever he happened to make a cup of tea or coffee, he always asked if Howard wanted one as well. A sharp, painful stab of longing shot through his body, and he concentrated on filling his mug without pouring scalding water all over himself. Pete was still talking.

"So good. You're definitely doing that again with us, mate. We need to make you into a proper man, yeah? Get you to hold your drink and keep up with the rest of us!" Howard turned around from the counter slowly.

"A proper man? That's your idea of a proper man is it, sir? Getting so blind drunk you can barely remember the night?" He had no idea why he was snapping at Pete, apart from the fact that he was tired, feeling like crap, and Pete's voice was starting to seriously annoy him.

Pete blinked in surprise. "Yeah mate, it's what all men do. Go down the pub, chat up some birds, get takeaway and then finish off the night getting laid, if you're lucky."

"Do you have any idea how stupid you sound?" Pete stared at him, and then his features started to tighten in anger, an expression that before would have had Howard backtracking like mad. Now, he was too tired to care.

"Oh yeah right. I forgot. You'd rather spend your time chasing after some little fairy boy, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah? So what if I would rather do that? At least I'm comfortable with my sexuality now. It took Vince to make me realise that. And I know you're too narrow-minded to accept it, but I really don't care. And even if Vince did make a bet with his mates about sleeping with me, I'm glad he did. Cos now I don't have to lie anymore, sir."

Pete's mouth twisted in a sneer. "Oh, come on Howard. You don't seriously believe that little poofter made a bet about you with his mates do you? Or are you really that stupid? He did nothing of the sort. In fact, he came out that room muttering something about breakfast in bed and wearing a fucking big grin. It was pathetic. I needed to tell you something to make you realise what a big fucking mistake you'd just made. A few words to little Vincey about how you think he's a total bitch and you only slept with him out of revenge. He goes off to cry in the bathroom and then you come out. It was too easy. Now that's all broken up, which you saw to when you punched his lights out, we can get back on track. You can forget this ridiculous obsession with being queer, you can forget Vince fucking Noir, and we can move on with our lives. You could even move back to Leeds!"

Howard stood staring at Pete, the mug of tea cradled loosely in his hand. There was nothing in his head. Nothing. Just a blank. Fragments of words echoed through his mind.

"_He did nothing of the sort."_

"_... muttering something about breakfast in bed... fucking big grin."_

"_... words to little Vincey about how you think he's a total bitch... slept with him out of revenge."_

"_... you saw to when you punched his lights out..."_

"_... forget Vince fucking Noir..."_

White hot anger seared through Howard TJ Moon. Anger stronger than anything he'd ever experienced before. Anger so strong it frightened him. Vince had never had a bet with his mates, Vince had wanted to make him breakfast in bed, Vince being told by Pete about how he thinks he's a total little bitch, Vince coming out of the bathroom to be confronted by his irrational anger, Vince hitting the wall and crumpling to the floor... Vince. It had always been about Vince. His silky, lush dark hair, his cheeky grin, his big blue eyes and his outrageous outfits. The way he'd hardly ever eat normal food, only sweets. The ridiculous but adorable questions he'd come out with sometimes. The way he could charm people within a five mile radius, but it would be Howard he'd always come back to at night.

Howard put the mug down gently on the counter top. He walked into his room, got dressed and collected his leather satchel which had his wallet, phone, keys and emergency trumpet in. He slung the satchel over his shoulder, walked out of his room and as he left the flat, hit Pete so hard in the face that he fell over the back of the sofa. Howard walked down the stairs, dusting his hands.

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Vince had finally decided what to wear, no mean feat since most of his favourite clothes were at the flat still. Eventually he came out of his room in a silver pantsuit, with huge bellbottomed trousers and an appliqued gold flower in sequins on the right breast. In his hair was a glittery gold flower clip, to match. He was going for the hippy vibe. His shoes were his favourite gold pair of Chelsea boots and he'd applied gold and silver eyeshadow above his big blue eyes. He'd also done his best to disguise the livid bruises on his jaw and forehead, but make-up could only do so much. Still, he thought he looked decent.

Grabbing his bag he yelled to Naboo that he was going, and clattered off down the stairs. As he approached the door of the Nabootique he was looking in his bag, checking that he'd got his keys. When he looked up he saw a sight he'd never expected to see. Howard was standing in the threshold of the Nabootique, staring at him.

He froze, one hand still in his silver bag, the other hanging loosely at his side. Howard raised a hand, and without meaning to, Vince flinched. Hurt and sorrow filled Howard's small brown eyes.

"What you doing here, Howard?" It was meant to come out as a casual question, but even to Vince's ears it sounded accusing.

"Um, I just wanted to say... I wanted to say..."

"Spit it out Howard."

"Sorry. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Vince."

Vince's blue eyes were icy. "Yeah, well. Bit late for that, isn't it."

What? What was he saying? Why couldn't he stop himself saying those things? Why did he always have to be such a _bitch_? Hurriedly he tried to rectify the situation. "I mean, it's in the past now, yeah? Not a big deal." Still, Vince could see that Howard couldn't take his eyes off the bruises on his face. "Sooo, what you been up to?"

"Oh, nothing much, sir. Punched Pete in the face a few minutes ago. Seem to be making a habit of using violence lately."

"What?" Vince squeaked. "You _punched_ Pete?"

"Yeah, well. Turns out he's not the nicest guy in the world after all." Howard's voice and tone turned serious. "Listen, Vince. I know what he said to you when you came out the room yesterday morning. It's a lie, a complete lie. I never thought you were a little bitch, I never would have..." his voice choked up as if he were having trouble with the words, "... I never would have slept with you just out of revenge. And he told me that you'd made a bet with your Camden mates, and that... that I wasn't worth forty euros."

A tear trickled down Howard's cheek. Without really knowing what he was doing, Vince stepped forward and brushed it away with one hand.

"Oh Howard, you are _such_ an idiot sometimes. But that's why I love you." Howard looked up, blinking in surprise.

"Love? You, _you_, love me?"

"Yep," Vince said simply, blue eyes shining. "Pretty much ever since we worked at the Zoo together." Howard stepped forward and knotted his arms around Vince's slender waist. His best friend's face was looking up at him, features glowing with happiness, and Howard felt like he could rule the world.

"I love you too."

Vince grinned up at him.

"Although you'll have to prove you're sorry for this," he gestured to his face and Howard flinched. "I'm thinking two days worth of shopping in Topshop, followed by a night of clubbing..."

**There you have it! So sorry it took so long to update, but hope you liked it! Bit of nice fluff in there for you before the angst returns. Don't worry, things are near to coming to a head! Pete's secret shall soon be revealed...**

**Reviews, as always, are love! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Very, very, very sorry! *Grovels on ground* for lateness of update, but was busy moving from uni to home and getting settled in for the summer! But even though bags are still littered all over bedroom floor, I have decided that I cannot wait any longer to continue the story! So read on my friends...**

**Warning: Slight homosexual action, don't like, don't read. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine... yadda yadda yadda – is this really necessary??**

"Vince? VINCE?"

Nope, it was no use. Howard slumped at the tiny table in the corner of the club and took a very tiny sip of his drink. He had no idea what it was, Vince had ordered it, but it was pink and fizzy – and obviously very, very alcoholic. Once you got used to it, it wasn't that bad, actually. He took another tentative sip. It reminded him of lemonade – adult's lemonade of course.

The club was heaving. The lights were strobing all the colours of the rainbow, and right in the middle of the dancefloor was Vince Noir, the light catching the blue-black sheen of his hair, and the sequins of his famous mirrorball suit. Vince had assured him as they were getting ready that it _was_ famous, throughout the whole of Camden. Seeing him so clearly at home in these surroundings made Howard tug anxiously at the neck of the smart dark blue shirt that Vince had dressed him in. He hated new clothes, they never fit properly and he always felt like he was trying to be someone he wasn't in them. He'd have been far more at home here in his comfy old pullover and cordoroy trousers. But when he'd paraded in front of Vince that afternoon, the younger man had groaned and collapsed against the wall, hands over his eyes.

"_What is _that_ Howard?"_

"_It's my outfit for tonight. Do you like it? I thought it gave off a definite vibe, sir."_

"_Vibe? Too right. Geography teacher vibe, maybe. Do you really want people to start thinking you're my dad all over again?"_

"_Listen, Vince. This outfit has got me plenty of attention in the past, let me tell you."_

"_Right, course it has. Anyway, you're not supposed to be out for attention tonight, are you? You're supposed to be making it up to me," Howard winced, "and that means letting me dress you."_

That had been the moment when everything had become a hazy blur for Howard, and before he knew it he was in the middle of the most happening club in Camden (apparently), in a dark blue shirt, dark blue jeans, black converses and a silver chain around his neck. Although the clothes definitely weren't what he'd usually wear, he had to admit that he was getting significantly more attention from the girls than he usually got. Most of the time he got filthy looks, or snickers whenever he so much as looked at a member of the opposite sex. As for trying to talk to them when they came into the shop, he could forget it. They looked at him for maybe a second before their eyes were inexorably drawn to Vince. From that moment on Howard was invisible. Anyway, it's not like he'd ever wanted attention from girls. He'd known most of his life he was gay – it was simply a matter of him trying to convince everyone around him that he wasn't, and that meant chasing after girls.

Perhaps he'd gone a little overboard in faking his interest in women, but he had been scared that if he didn't people would start realising that he really wanted attention from the one person he thought he would never have. And now look at him, he thought with wonder. He'd been officially 'going out' with Vince Noir for a grand total of three days. It still amazed him that Vince did actually want to be with him, did actually _love_ him in fact. And he hadn't been at all shy about showing it, either.

Just at that minute Vince came bounding over from the dancefloor, picked up his drink, and took a long swig. While the rest of the dancers had bright red faces and sweaty hair stuck to their foreheads Vince just looked casually flushed. His hair was tousled but not sweaty and as he leant over Howard to put his drink back down a waft of some gorgeous scent surrounded the bigger man.

Howard opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Vince had plopped himself down on his lap and shut his mouth with a long, lingering kiss. Howard had got a lot more confident with these types of situations in the past three days, and his arms wound around Vince's slender, sequinned waist, pulling him closer. As they broke apart Howard spotted several girls looking at him enviously. He grinned. It was so nice to be envied instead of being pitied.

"You having a good time, Howard?" Vince twisted one long finger into the soft curls at the back of Howard's neck, and his touch made Howard shudder with pleasure.

"Much better now you're back here," he muttered, tracing Vince's sharp jawline with his finger.

"Well, I thought we would go in a few minutes. It's much more fun at home." Howard groaned as Vince's fingers left his hair, and worked their way into the front of his jeans. He struggled to order his next sentence as Vince's nimble fingers worked their magic.

"Uhhhh, that sounds like a... a, um, very good idea... little man..." Vince grinned wickedly and his blue eyes lit up mischievously as his fingers sped up. Howard started squirming slightly. Abruptly Vince took his hand out of Howard's jeans and jumped off his lap.

"Okay, just gotta say bye to some people. See you outside in a minute, yeah?" And he was off, wending his way through the dancers. Howard gaped slightly, gasping for breath. Aware that there was a rather embarrassing tent situation in his lap he quickly reached for his leather satchel and placed it over his crotch, calming himself down before he dared to leave the table and head outside.

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Vince leaned against the wall outside the club, taking occasional drags on his cigarette while he waited for Howard. He grinned as he remembered the expression on his boyfriend's face when he'd jumped off his lap. It was a bit mean of him, he conceded, but that had been his final payback. Automatically his hand reached up and touched the almost-faded bruise on his jaw. That was in the past now. In a very weird way he felt almost turned on by thinking about Howard being all manly like that. He giggled to himself as he remembered going back to the flat from the Nabootique. The expression on Pete's face had been genius.

Pete had been sitting on the sofa, watching television, cradling a cup of coffee. He'd twisted round as Howard and Vince had clattered up the stairs. His grin had faded from his face as he saw Vince following behind Howard.

"Oh. Hi, Vince." There was no shame in his tone, his eyes remained cold and hard as he stared Vince. Well, two could play at that game, Vince had thought. He'd wrapped an arm around Howard's waist, and kissed him softly on the cheek, before staring back at Pete.

"Hi, Pete. Me and Howard just got together! Isn't it great?"

Pete hadn't replied, just stalked off to his room, throwing a filthy look at both of them. Vince had thought that would have been it, and Pete would have gone back to Leeds. Yet to his surprise, and Howard's, that hadn't happened. Pete had stayed in the flat, seemingly as deeply embedded there as a limpet on a rock.

What was even stranger was that Pete hadn't gone out of his way to make life unpleasant for them. In fact he'd been, if not friendly, then cordial with Vince. His relationship with Howard seemed to have gone back to normal. This was why, when Vince asked why Pete hadn't left yet, Howard always muttered that there was no need for him to go when they were all getting on so well together. This seemed incredibly naive to Vince, but quelled his suspicions. Naboo would have got back to him if he'd found anything suspect about Pete, and he hadn't.

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The truth was, Naboo had been incredibly busy with Shaman business, and hadn't had much of a chance to investigate his own suspicions about Pete. A few minutes after Vince and Howard had left their flat to go to the club, Naboo had settled down to watch 'Blood Brothers' with Bollo. For some peculiar reason it was one of Bollo's favourite films. About halfway through the film, a quarter of an hour or so before Vince plopped himself down on Howard's lap, Naboo sat bolt upright, a random thought occurring to him.

"Naboo allright?" Bollo questioned, pausing the movie. Naboo didn't answer, but jumped off the sofa and ran into his room. Bollo shrugged and continued watching the film. Naboo was often behaving strangely. Too much hookah, he decided.

In his room Naboo was flinging cardboard boxes frantically out of his wardrobe.

"Where is it, where _is_ it?" he muttered desperately to himself, diving further into the wooden cupboard. He knew exactly what he was looking for, a tattered black notebook which Dennis had given him when he'd first joined the Shaman Council. In it was a Prophecy. Naboo had given it a cursory glance, and filed it safely away. But he'd suddenly been reminded of it, and now it was of the utmost importance that he find it.

Ten minutes later he had it in his hand. He flipped through it. Yes, there it was. The Prophecy that concerned the whole Shaman Council, what was clearly Howard and Vince and also... Pete. Naboo spent the next five minutes checking and double checking. Then he was sure. Frantic, Naboo grabbed his phone and started dialling Vince's number.

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Vince finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, stubbing it out with one boot heel. Where was Howard? he wondered. It shouldn't have taken him this long to calm down. Just as he was contemplating going back into the club a car drew up by the kerb. It was black, and unremarkable, but Vince felt a frisson of fear crawl down his spine. Quickly he glanced up and down the road. Deserted. He started to move towards the door of the club, which was just around the corner.

Suddenly he found himself being slammed face-first into the club wall. He gasped in surprise, all the breath knocked out of his body. Strong arms were pinning him against the brick, while another pair of hands grabbed his wrists and dragged them behind his back. He groaned and tried to wriggle free, but whoever had hold of him slammed him against the wall again, effectively stopping him escaping. His wrists were being bound with what felt horribly like rope. Then he was hauled away from the wall, blindfolded with what might have been a bandana or a napkin and something horrible was stuffed into his mouth, gagging him. His captors dragged him to the open door of the car, flung him in, and the car screeched away from the pavement.

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"Shit, he's not answering." Bollo had never seen Naboo look this anxious before. "Come on Vince, you stupid twat!" Naboo shouted at his phone, before glancing at Bollo. "Bollo, get me Howard's mobile number. Quickly!"

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Howard was finding it difficult getting out of the club. Wherever he moved there was always a gaggle of people blocking his way. Vince would leave soon if he carried on at this rate. Finally he located the exit and made his way towards it, shouldering people out of the way. Bursting out into the cold night air he breathed in deeply. Oh yes, that was more like it. He glanced around. No Vince. Well, he'd probably be waiting around the corner or something. Howard walked briskly down the pavement, and around the brick wall. Still nothing. The whole street was empty. Howard's phone started ringing in his bag, and, still glancing up and down the street in confusion, he pulled it out and put it to his ear.

"Hello, Howard Moon speaking."

"Howard! Thank God. Listen, is Vince with you?"

"Naboo? Um, no, actually. He left the club a few minutes ago, but I'm outside now and I can't see him anywhere."

"Howard this is really important. Do _not_ go back to your flat. Find Vince and bring him straight here. I don't want either of you anywhere near Pete."

"Pete? What's he got to do with anything?"

"I'll tell you when you get here..."

As Naboo rambled on about something or other, Howard's attention had been caught by something glistening on the wall. With a sick feeling of foreboding he walked over, and trailed his fingers over the brickwork. They came away red.

"Naboo. Um Naboo?"

"What is it, Howard?"

"There's blood on the wall."

"There's what?"

Howard's voice rose in pitch. "There is _blood_ on the _wall_."

"Oh shit. Don't move Howard, I'll be right there."

Four minutes later Naboo came shooting around the corner of the street on his magic carpet, with Bollo sat behind him. He leaped off the carpet before it had come to a full stop and stood next to Howard. He closed his eyes. Howard stood still, knowing not to disturb him. His mind was in turmoil. Why was Naboo so frightened and anxious? Where was Vince? Why was there blood on the wall? And what did Pete have to do with this?

Naboo opened his eyes, and spoke four words that chilled Howard right to his very core.

"Vince has been taken."

**Well, that's it for the moment. Next update tomorrow or the next day – I still have to finalise the plot a little! **

**Please Review, I love reading them. xxxx**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Thanks all for your reviews, keep 'em coming! Next update as promised, so read on...**

**Disclaimer: They are not mine, and never shall be.**

**Dedication: To all my faithful reviewers: BrieStarWarsQueen, InconspicuousBunny, Mommys-Little-Nightmare, RoseNoir90, Sara Noir, RoxxiSanders, swisstony, xxpipxx and SisiDraig.**

**Warning: Scenes involving **_**fairly**_** graphic violence, not sure if I should put the rating up or not...**

"Taken." Howard was amazed at how calm his voice sounded, but then the hysteria started rising up inside him and he virtually screamed at Naboo. "What the hell do you mean _taken_?" Naboo looked faintly ill, his usually pale face was almost white.

"We need to find Pete, Howard." Howard pounded the brick wall in his frustration, grazing his knuckles.

"What on _earth_ has Pete got to do with this? I swear Naboo, if you don't start giving me some answers _right_ now..."

"Alright, alright, calm down will ya? I can only tell you a little bit of what I think is going on, I can't tell you the rest of it."

"Can't or won't?" Howard demanded.

Naboo looked at him sadly. "Can't. Believe me, Howard, I can't. Now get on the carpet, I'm gonna see if it can find Pete for us."

Realising that further argument would be useless and counter-productive Howard got onto the magic carpet, his legs feeling like they were going to collapse under him at any moment. Bollo shuffled up a bit to make room for him, and then they were soaring into the night sky. Naboo took out his navigator and started waving his hands over it and muttering nonsensical words to himself.

Howard gazed at the stars, tears starting to prickle behind his eyelids. Just a few minutes ago he and Vince had been together, laughing and joking. He could still see Vince in his mind, spinning around the dancefloor in his glittery suit, dark hair flying. He could see him skipping over to their table, sitting in his lap. He blinked furiously and then suddenly a slightly dirty handkerchief was being waved in front of his face. He looked around to see Bollo, who had shuffled a little closer.

"We find Vince, Howard."

Howard sniffed, and gratefully took the proffered handkerchief, muttering his thanks. It meant a lot that Bollo was concerned about him, and had even made the effort to get his name right. Naboo twisted around from his position at the front of the carpet.

"Howard, what's Pete's full name?'

"Moss. Pete Moss. I don't think he has a middle name."

"Right."

Naboo muttered Pete's name over the navigator and suddenly little green and red lights began to flash. Howard craned over to look, interested despite himself. Naboo looked satisfied, and slightly hopeful.

"Right. I've put it on automatic, it's a new gadget from the Shaman Council, I'm glad it works. It should take us to wherever Pete is now."

"And Pete's got Vince?"

"Yes." There was silence for a few minutes. Naboo seemed to be struggling to find words to explain.

"Okay, listen up Howard. There's this prophecy that concerns you and Vince, the Shaman Council, and Pete. I was given it years and years ago, just before I started working in the Zoo, before I met you both. I flicked through it and stored it away – pretty much forgot about it. I can't tell you exactly what it says, because without the rest of the Council here it's forbidden, but I _can_ tell you that if it comes true then life..." he paused, his eyes filled with anxiety, "... well, it would be a disaster. You see you and Vince, when you're together, you sort of exude this _energy_, a kind of lifeforce. Your two different personalities fit together and the Shaman Council has been running most of its magic off that energy. Even when you fight it's still there, because you're _together_. Do you understand me?"

Howard nodded, a little bemused.

"Right. So anyway, the prophecy, well it predicts that one day something will come along to threaten that bond and if the threat succeeds then the energy will be broken. The Shaman Council will be broken. The fallout would be felt everywhere. I did think briefly that the incident with the Flighty Zeus was that threat, turned out it was just a couple of twats with identity issues." Howard managed a small smile. "I'm so sorry Howard, I should have seen this sooner. Vince even came to me and said that he was worried that there was something up with Pete. I could sense it but I was so busy, I just forgot about it."

Howard nodded slowly. "So... Pete is the threat, then? You're sure about this?"

"I wish I could tell you why he is, Howard, but I can't. It's probably better to hear it from him anyway." Naboo turned back to the navigator, and Howard wiped the tears from his eyes with Bollo's handkerchief. Even though he didn't want to ask, he knew he had to.

"So... if we don't get there in time is Pete, is he going to hurt Vince? Naboo? You have to tell me. Is Vince in danger?"

Naboo didn't trust himself to turn around, but he slowly nodded his head.

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Vince groaned as he blearily opened his eyes. There was a pounding pain in his temples, and pretty much everywhere hurt. But as soon as he'd opened his eyes, he wished he hadn't. He was in a huge room which appeared to be some sort of warehouse. There were large wooden boxes stacked around all the walls. He was right in the middle, by the looks of things. He hauled himself into a sitting position, and realised that his ankles were chained to a large metal ring which was buried in the concrete floor. Acting on autopilot he raised his hands, blessedly unchained, to his head and fluffed his hair, kind of wishing that he had a mirror handy. He was pretty sure that being kidnapped and bodily thrown into a car would not have done his hair any favours.

There was a noise at the other end of the warehouse, behind him. It sounded like a door opening, and then slamming shut again. Vince twisted round, peering into the gloom at the other end of the enormous room. Footsteps echoed around the cavernous space, coming closer and closer to where Vince was sat.

Eventually a figure emerged. Vince couldn't help but gasp. It was Pete, striding down towards him. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were twisted into a horrible maniacal grin. He was also, and Vince's heart almost stopped at this point, carrying a gun in his left hand. In short, he looked totally deranged. Vince realised that this Pete was a lot different than the narrow-minded bully that he'd had him down for. This Pete was definitely on the road to being a complete psychopath.

Pete stopped a couple of feet away from where Vince was chained, and looked down at him, a smirk twisting his thin lips.

"So, the little fairy boy has woken up has he?"

Vince didn't think he trusted himself to answer. There was clearly no reasoning with his captor, so for once, he kept his mouth shut. Pete must have seen the fear shining out of his eyes though, because he barked out a laugh, and started circling him.

"Oh yes. You're starting to wish you'd kept your pointy little nose out of my business, aren't you? You're starting to wish you'd left my Howard alone."

Vince couldn't stop himself. "_Your_ Howard? What are you talking about, you freak?" The smirk dropped off Pete's face, and before Vince knew what was happening, Pete had punched him in the temple with the butt end of the gun. He collapsed back onto the floor, groaning, and automatically raised his hands to his head.

Pete glared down at him. "You have absolutely no idea how totally insignificant you are in Howard's life, do you? I know Howard. He's after deeper connections with people. He might think he loves you now, but we both know that you'll drop him the minute someone better comes along. You've contaminated him, and you've managed to bewitch him somehow. You've taken him away from me!" Pete practically screamed the last part, and with no warning whatsoever, booted Vince in the ribs.

Vince cried out in pain, he was sure he'd heard something crack. He painfully hoisted himself back up to a sitting position. He'd had enough of taking Pete's bullshit, and even though he was chained to the floor, his voice rose up in defiance.

"Pete, Howard's not the deluded one, mate. It's you. You need help. It can't be making you happy, being so angry all the time. I could help you. I reckon once you've been to a proper stylist and found your look, things would be loads better..."

"Angry?" Pete shouted, spittle spraying from his mouth. "You bet I'm angry! How someone like _you_ could lure Howard away from me. You're scum, no, you're below scum. Your sort shouldn't even be allowed to live. And that's what I'm gonna make Howard realise. Oh, he'll come here to rescue you, I'm counting on that. But I'm going to make him see what a waste of space you are. I'm going to make him see how I'm the only one he can truly count on."

Vince realised that his usual technique of talking his way out danger hadn't worked. Pete was clearly not the type of psycho who could be dissuaded from his evil plan by a judicious application of accessories and a new hairstyle, unlike the Ape of Death. Instead he went for his plan B, which basically involved him insulting Pete as much as possible.

"You're just jealous that it's me that Howard loves, and not you. You could never hope to be as important to anyone as we are to each other. You tried to break us apart, and you failed, miserably. Basically, Pete, you're a bit of a loser, and Howard finally realised that. Your other plan backfired, and this one will too..."

Pete let out a roar of anger, raised the gun, and fired.

The bullet found Vince's right shoulder, and a searing pain shot through his entire body. He slumped back to the floor, the concrete around his body slowly turning red as blood gushed from the wound. Vince raised one hand weakly to his shoulder, clutching it, trying in vain to staunch the bloodloss.

Through the agony, he heard Pete's footsteps start heading away again, and the words that Pete parted with.

"You have no idea just how important Howard and me are to each other. Once he knows that, he'll leave you and never look back."

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"Naboo can't this thing go any faster?"

"It's going as fast as it can, Howard." Naboo's voice was strained and tense. They'd been flying for what seemed like hours to them all, though it could only have been fifteen minutes. Howard was still hunched at the back of the carpet, hugging his knees. Although he knew it wasn't Naboo's fault he was still agitated at how long this journey was taking. Vince was in danger, and this was one time where he was the one relying on Howard to save him. Howard wasn't about to let him down.

Naboo glanced around to check on his passengers and saw Howard slumped at the back, staring at a snapshot picture of Vince that he kept in his wallet. The picture was one where Howard had caught Vince off-guard. The younger man's body was in profile, but he'd turned his head round when he'd heard Howard's call. He was grinning, but slightly anxiously as though he expected to be told off for something. It had been taken in the morning, so even though Vince had naturally done his hair and make-up, it wasn't the full-on glamour look that he went for in the evenings. This Vince looked natural and innocent, and completely defenseless. Howard had picked it out of the thousands of Vince that they had in the flat for this exact reason. It reminded him of the naive assistant zookeeper that Vince used to be, the Vince that had looked up to Howard.

Without saying a word Naboo urged the carpet to try and go faster. He was starting to worry that they wouldn't get there in time, though he didn't say this to Howard. It would probably send him over the edge.

**Five Minutes Later**

Naboo peered down at the dark streets, and then glanced back at the navigator. It looked like this was where they were supposed to be. The navigator was flashing all different colours, and beeping at them. Howard sensed Naboo's anxiety, and sat up straight, putting the picture of Vince back in his wallet.

"Are we here, Naboo?"

The tiny shaman peered uncertainly over the edge of the carpet again.

"I _think_ so," he replied doubtfully. "This is where the navigator has sent us. But we're in the middle of the disused industrial estate. This place hasn't been in use for years."

"Well then, isn't this likely to be right? Pete wouldn't exactly choose the centre of town if he'd kidnapped someone, would he? Somewhere like this," Howard waved his arm vaguely, "makes perfect sense."

Naboo nodded tensely, and started to guide the carpet earthward.

As soon as they landed Howard jumped off the carpet immediately, and started scanning the area. The closest building to them was a huge warehouse that looked derelict. The windows were boarded up with rotting wood and graffitti was scrawled all over its walls. Naboo got off the carpet, stored it away, and consulted his navigator again.

"Well, this is it, apparently."

The three of them stood and stared at the building. In the darkness it looked menacing and intimidating, looming up so high that its roof was lost to sight.

None of them seemed certain what to do, now that they were actually here. Howard took the lead, and moved forward a few steps. He knew instinctively that it was a bad idea to try the front door. They didn't want to let Pete know that they were there. Instead he started circling round to the other side of the building, looking for a second way in. He heard footsteps behind him, and realised that Naboo and Bollo were following his lead. Glancing at the windows he quickly eliminated them as a possibility. About halfway down the wall he found what he was looking for. There was a small wooden door set into the brickwork. Howard stopped, and waited for Bollo and Naboo to catch up.

Once they were all stood together he started talking in a low urgent voice.

"Bollo, you should stay out here, if you see Pete anywhere tell us immediately. Naboo come in with me, but hang back slightly. If we find Vince, I'll go and get him, and we'll come straight back out this way, alright?"

Naboo nodded, realising to his surprise that Howard was actually very good at taking charge, given the chance. Bollo heaved at the door for them, and it opened with a small creak. Then he positioned himself at the threshold, and Howard and Naboo crept past him and into the warehouse.

Rearing up in front of them were huge wooden boxes. There was light coming from somewhere just beyond them, and, peering through the gap in some boxes, they realised that the boxes were stacked along the wall.

Moving down a few paces Howard peeked through another gap. He had to stifle a gasp as he saw Vince right in the middle of the warehouse. His boyfriend was lying on the concrete on his side, hair falling over his face. To Howard's horror he saw that Vince was surrounded by what looked horribly like blood. Hard though it was Howard drew back. The last thing he should do was go blazing in there. He turned to Naboo and had an urgent whispered conversation with him.

Naboo agreed to stay by the boxes and keep an eye out. Howard glanced out again – looking for any sign of Pete, and seeing no-one, slid out from between the boxes.

The warehouse was massive. There was one singular bald lightbulb hanging from the ceiling almost directly above Vince, but that was all. The rest of the warehouse was lost in the gloom. Howard fully realised that this meant that Pete could easily be hiding amongst the boxes, but he would have to risk it.

He ran across to Vince, choking back tears. When he reached him, he knelt down on the cold concrete, and slipped an arm under Vince's neck. As he hoisted him up, he noticed for the first time the metal ring and Vince's chained ankles.

"Oh shit," he muttered to himself. As he looked back at Vince the younger man stirred and groaned. His eyes fluttered open, and when he focussed on Howard they widened in absolute terror and he started fighting to get away from him.

"Shhh, shhh. Vince! It's Howard. It's Howard, Vince. Calm down, it's okay, I've got you." Gradually Vince stopped kicking, and the only sound was his ragged gasps as he looked at Howard properly.

"Howard?"

"I've got you, Vince." Vince's slim body sagged with relief. Howard smoothed a lock of dark hair back from his forehead, and noticed the violent bruise from the butt of the gun. He hugged Vince to him, but released him when Vince squealed in pain.

"What's wrong?"

"M-my shoulder..." Howard looked down at the wound that was clearly visible. The glittery suit was stained red all around it. Blood was still leaking, soaking into Howard's new shirt.

"Oh shit. Oh Vince, what did he do to you?"

"Gun. Howard, he's got a gun! He's insane!" Vince's eyes suddenly widened in alarm, and he stared over Howard's shoulder.

"Howard, watch out!" Howard heard Naboo's warning shout too late. A fist connected with the side of his head and he was knocked to the ground. Vince collapsed back onto the concrete.

Howard moaned and raised himself off the floor. The scene in front of him was one out of his worst nightmares. His former friend, Pete Moss, had grabbed Vince off the floor and was holding him upright, one muscular arm around his slim throat. Vince was choking and struggling for breath. Pete's other hand held his gun, and it was pointed right at Vince's head. Howard glanced around as he very slowly stood up.

He raised his hands in a placating gesture and took a step forward.

"Pete, mate, what are you doing?"

Pete's ice-grey eyes narrowed in disgust. "I'm doing what you should have done a long time ago, Howard. This little bitch," he tightened his hold around Vince's neck, "should have been dealt with. He doesn't deserve you."

Howard's brain raced to make sense of what he was hearing. There was no sign of Naboo or Bollo. He just had to keep Pete talking, and make sure that he didn't hurt Vince.

"Naboo mentioned something about a prophecy. He said you'd explain it to me." Pete's eyes glinted with pleasure.

"Oh yes. The prophecy. I don't really care about that. All I really care about is reuniting my family."

Howard stood still, totally confused. Family? Was that what Pete had said? Did he want him to join some sort of strange, perverted cult or something?

"Family?" he asked tentatively. Pete threw his head back and laughed raucously.

"Oh Howard, Howard, Howard. You really don't know?"

Howard shook his head, his eyes still focussed absolutely on Vince's terrified blue ones.

"You'll have to enlighten me, sir."

Pete spoke his next words slowly, emphasising each one. "You belong with _me_, Howard. We're family. Brothers. Twins, in fact. Same mother, same father. _Twins_."

**Don't worry, more will be explained, and perhaps a happy ending will be reached! Please leave me reviews, cos I loves 'em. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Here's your next update – and finally the pieces of the puzzle are going to be put together. Might sound a bit far-fetched, but come on, this is the Mighty Boosh! Weirder things have happened...**

**Disclaimer: For the last time (well not the last time actually) I do not own the Mighty Boosh.**

**Warning: Scenes of graphic violence and strong language**

There was silence in the cavernous warehouse. Absolute silence. Howard was standing still as a statue, his eyes still fixed on Vince. Big blue eyes met his small brown ones, dilated in fear. Howard became aware of the sound of Vince's rasping breath, and saw the younger man's chest rising up and down shallowly. Wild thoughts raced through Howard's mind, too fast for him to catch or examine.

Slowly, very slowly, he reluctantly took his eyes away from Vince, and dragged them to the man standing next to his boyfriend, holding a gun to his head. Looked at the man who he'd thought had been his best friend in Leeds, the man who had kidnapped and beaten his real best mate, and the light of Howard's life. The man who now announced that they were brothers. More than brothers. _Twin_ brothers. He couldn't help himself. A hysterical laugh bubbled up his throat and burst out of his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth to try and stop, but he couldn't help his body shaking.

Pete's eyes narrowed in fury and confusion.

"Just _what_ is so funny, Howard?" he spat, pressing the gun closer to Vince's head.

Howard desperately tried to stop laughing, to tell Pete that there was absolutely nothing funny about this situation.

"Nothing, nothing..." was all he could come up with.

"I've just told you that we're twins, and you're _laughing _at me?"

The way he spoke those words transported Howard briefly back into another moment, years and years ago. A moment when he and Vince had been facing death, tied to an icicle in an arctic cave, and Howard had told Vince he loved him. He'd said the words in almost _exactly_ the same way as Pete had done now. He stopped laughing abruptly.

"Okay, okay, just whatever you do, don't hurt Vince, all right? We can talk about this." Howard held his hands out in a placating gesture. Pete sniggered.

"Oh yes, we will talk about this. But I'm afraid there's nothing you can do that will save your precious Vince. One way or another, he'll be the loser in this situation." Vince gulped against Pete's arm which was still held tight against his throat. Howard had no idea what had happened to Naboo and Bollo, but he really hoped they'd gone for help. What he had to do now was keep Pete talking, which didn't look like it was going to be too difficult.

"Right, okay. So tell me, Pete. Tell me how we're twins. Because as far as I know, sir, I'm an only child."

"Well, that's what I thought, until I moved into your street. You remember that your mum sent you round to welcome us? And you remember my mum's reaction?" Howard thought back. Yes, he did remember.

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His mum had sent him round with a basket full of homemade fairy cakes. He'd been told he had to be friendly and welcoming. So he'd knocked on the door, and pasted a big smile onto his face. The door had been opened by a stern looking, but very attractive woman. She'd smiled on seeing him standing on the doorstep, arms thrust out, holding the basket of cakes.

"Well now, and you are you?" she'd asked. A boy had appeared on the step behind her, looking around Howard's own age.

"I'm Howard Moon, I live a few doors down, and my mum told me to say welcome to the street..." He remembered he'd tailed off because the smile had slipped from the woman's face. Her face had gone as white as a sheet and her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

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Pete was watching Howard carefully.

"She didn't seem very pleased to see you, did she, once you'd said your surname?"

Howard shook his head, mute with bewilderment.

"All you knew is that you were hardly ever allowed round to my house to play, and I rarely came round to yours. We played outside most of the time. That's because my mum forbid me from playing at your house. I didn't know why, but I heard her and my dad arguing a lot in the weeks following our move. I didn't know the whole story, but I knew that for some reason my mum wanted to move, and my dad didn't. He got his way, he usually did, but my mum was never friendly to you, was she?"

Again Howard shook his head.

"I didn't learn the full story until after you'd moved away to London, when we were a lot older. And even then I learnt it quite by accident." Pete suddenly threw Vince to the floor, violently. Vince, unprepared for this, was unable to fling his arms out in time, and his head cracked onto the concrete. Howard started forward, but Pete stopped him by holding out the gun at Vince's head.

"One bad move, Howard, that's all it would take..." Howard stopped short, but knelt on the concrete, a few feet from Vince. His boyfriend wasn't unconscious, he groaned and rolled over onto his back, but he was clearly in a bad way. He was now losing blood from two serious wounds, and the floor around him was starting to be stained red.

"Shall we continue with the story?" Pete asked conversationally, settling himself down a few inches from Vince, and casually levelling the gun at him again. He was clearly taking no chances. Watching Pete carefully, Howard sat down properly, facing him.

"Once you'd left, I didn't really have anyone to hang around with. You know how I'd always wanted a brother. Well, I started to imagine you as being my brother. We did everything together, in my imagination. Then, one night, I couldn't sleep so I decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. I'd just got to the hall when I heard my parents talking in the study, the door was ajar. Something about their tone intrigued me, so I went closer to listen. They were arguing about something, and as I got closer, I realised they were arguing about _you_, Howard."

"_Look Howard's moved away now, Suzanne, don't you think you should let it go? Pete and Howard have been friends for years and they've never even suspected. And Helen Moon hasn't said anything, has she?"_

"_It's only a matter of time, Tony! Suppose she suddenly decides she wants him back? I can't let that happen, I _won't_ let that happen."_

"_Listen, Suze. Pete's _our_ son, not hers. It doesn't matter that she gave birth to him – he belongs with us. I know you freaked out when we moved and realised that this was her street, and then little Howard coming to the door, but just relax."_

"_But Pete and Howard are _twins_, Tony. Twins! Have you never seen Blood Brothers? They say that it's bad luck to keep twins apart. What if Helen Moon starts thinking the same?"_

Pete seemed to come out of a minor reverie.

"So, of course, I went in and confronted them. They were reluctant to tell me, but I insisted. It was my right. It turns out that Helen and Alan Moon had _two_ sons, Howard, not just one. The only thing was, they were far too poor to take care of two children. Helen worked at that time as a housekeeper for a fairly rich family, the Mosses. Suzanne and Tony Moss had been trying for years to have a child, but they couldn't. The families came to an arrangement. One of the boys would be legally adopted by the Moss family, and the Moons would have visitation rights. Only it didn't work out like that. The Moss family moved away almost immediately, without telling the Moons where they were going. The next time they saw each other was years on, when the Mosses bought a house in the same street as the Moons, who had also moved. My mother was all for moving house again there and then, but my father managed to convince her differently. So, we grew up side by side, Howard, never knowing our connection. But now you know, as well. It became an obsession with me when I knew. I loved coming to visit you at the Zoo where you worked. I was convinced that nothing would keep us apart. But _something_ stood in my way."

Howard gulped loudly, as Pete's gaze switched to Vince, whose eyes were open and locked on Howard.

"I realised very early on that there was someone who would get in the way of having all I ever wanted. Someone who was closer to you than anyone else. The first time I met him, I loathed him on sight. I knew his type, a parasite, clinging and drawing the life out of the host."

Howard managed to find his voice.

"Vince _gives_ me life, he doesn't take it away, you moron."

Pete's narrow grey eyes flashed, and then he sighed softly. "See, that's exactly the kind of attitude I'm going to have to change, Howard," he said. "I can't have my twin brother in a relationship with another man. My father may not have taught me much, but he taught me _that_ at least." Howard realised that here was a chance to keep Pete talking, anything to stop him turning his attention back to Vince.

"What exactly happened with your parents, Pete?"

He smiled, a dreadful, twisted smile. "You mean those _imposters_? Those lying, conniving _cunts_ who kept us apart? Oh, they got what they deserved. They were nothing to me after all, were they. They were just two people who lived in the same house as me, only they kept _everything_ from me. I'm all ready to take my place in your family, Howard. I'm going to change my name. I'm going to have the name I should have had my whole life."

Howard felt sick. He knew Pete never joked, and by the sounds of it...

"You killed your parents?" he whispered, appalled.

Pete leapt up suddenly, anger blazing in his eyes.

"They weren't MY parents, were they? Have you listened to nothing that I've been telling you?" Howard realised that Vince was right, Pete was insane. He was a complete psychopath. He changed moods in the blink of an eye, and it was downright impossible to predict what he was going to do next.

Oh God, where was Naboo? Where was Bollo? Howard realized that he was alone in a warehouse with a madman who wanted to kill the love of his life. And if Pete decided to do that, Howard wasn't sure if he would be able to stop him.

Luckily, Pete was talking again, waving the gun around agitatedly. "I tried _everything_, Howard, to make you realise how wrong this twisted thing you've got with Vince is. At first I tried simply ignoring him, first time I met him. I thought that you would value our friendship over some boy you'd only just met. Only that didn't work. You didn't move back to Leeds. So then I decided to come and visit you, and this time I had a plan. I'd break you and Vince apart if it was the last thing I did. You remember that night when poor little Vincey got beaten up?"

Howard nodded. How could he forget? It had been one of the worst nights of his life when he'd found Vince on that alley floor.

"Yeah, that was me and a couple of my mates. I realized that I had to make Vince scared of me, if I was gonna succeed." Howard gazed at Vince, horrified. He remembered now when he'd asked Vince who'd done that to him.

"_Did you recognise any of them?"_

"_N-no. No I didn't."_

"_You're sure?"_

"_Of course I'm sure Howard! God, what do you think I am, stupid? Anyway, enough with the questions. I'm tired."_

Howard felt guilt wash over him. He'd told himself he'd find out who'd done that to Vince, he knew that Vince was lying to him. It should have been obvious to him that Vince was terrified, yet he'd done nothing.

"That didn't really seem to work though. Then you both buggered off together to Rooms 108, like some sick, twisted _couple_. I heard you come in, and realised you'd both gone into Vince's room. I felt ill. How could you have _done_ that to me, Howard? I realised that night I had to pick up my game. So when Vince came out I told him that you thought he was a shallow little bitch, not worthy of his attention. I told him that you thought he was bullying you. So he runs into the bathroom, crying, and then you come out. And I told you that Vince had a bet on with his mates. It seemed to work, at first. You two hated each other. You even punched Vince in the face – brilliant! Only then that idiotic little shaman got involved and suddenly you were mates again! That's when I snapped." Howard didn't say anything but what he was thinking was, _that's_ when you snapped? Seems to me you snapped a long time ago.

"I knew which club you were going to tonight, so I got a couple of my mates to hover around. They rang when they saw Vince leaving without you, Howard. So then me and a few people drove up to the kerb, snatched little Vincey, and drove off. It couldn't have been easier! So now, here we are. And I _won't_ let Vince keep you from me any longer, Howard. So we're going, right now. If you come with me without any fuss, I'll leave Vince here. Maybe he'll be found before he dies of blood loss, though I doubt it. If you try to fight me, I'll kill him right now."

Howard sat stock still. He had no idea what had happened to Naboo and Bollo, but he knew that if he left with Pete now, Vince had only an hour or two to live, maximum. There was already a large pool of blood around where he was lying. He was still conscious though, his eyes were wide, and tear tracks had traced their way down his pale cheeks. His skin was ashen, all the blood seemed to have drained out of his face. Howard could see him struggling for breath and his lips were turning blue. But if he didn't leave with Pete, Pete would kill Vince right now. Unless...

Quick as a flash he hurled himself across the narrow gap, landing in front of Vince. Before Pete could make a move he'd placed himself between Vince and the gun. Pete blinked.

"You'll have to kill me, Pete, if you want to get to Vince. You see, even if I leave with you, I won't be _me_. My life will be over the second I leave Vince, I know that. And that also means that the prophecy will come true. Vince and I will be split apart, and Naboo told me that terrible things would happen. If I stay here, then you're going to kill Vince anyway. But you'll have to kill _me_ first. I'm giving you an option. You can let us both leave here, unharmed, and I'll think about trying to forgive you. Maybe we can make a relationship as brothers. But you'll have to understand that if I belong to anyone, I belong to Vince." For the first time, Pete didn't look angry. He looked confused. The gun wavered in his hand. Howard dared to hope that both he and Vince would get out alive. Then the hand steadied, and the familiar evil expression was back on Pete's face. Moving just as fast as Howard had done, Pete leapt forward and struck Howard a blow on the side of the head. Howard fell sideways, onto the concrete. He raised his head, and saw Pete standing above Vince, gun aimed. Vince was too wounded to do anything but turn his head, to stare at Howard.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Two gunshots echoed around the cavernous warehouse, and the brief smell of gunsmoke filled the air.

**Okay, not sure how that chapter turned out – I tried my best with it! Who's been shot? You'll have to tune in to the next update to find out! Almost at the end, now. Read and Review? Please?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Once again, thank you all for your lovely reviews. This fic is nearing its end now, only one or two more chapters to go after this one, and I'm gonna miss it! Never thought I'd have such a great response to my first fanfiction, so thank you all! **

**Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I owned them. Although I did get the photos developed today from the book signing I went too (several months late). Does that count? Didn't think so.**

Howard blinked, dazedly, the sound of the gunshots still ringing in his ears. He was having trouble focussing on anything, a strange sort of mist seemed to be hanging over his eyes. He blinked again and again, desperately trying to clear his vision. He was still collapsed on the floor, lying where Pete had knocked him down, and he shifted himself so that he was sitting up. Slowly the mist started to clear, Howard helping it by shaking his head from side to side a few times.

The warehouse started to come back into focus. Howard saw Pete lying on the concrete a few feet away from him, moaning. But it wasn't him Howard was worried about. Dreading what he'd see, he turned his gaze to his boyfriend.

Vince was writhing in agony on the concrete, both hands clutched over his stomach. Even with the remains of the mist, Howard could see dark red liquid gushing from between Vince's slender fingers. Howard became aware of the sound of hurrying footsteps, heading from the boxes at the sides of the warehouse, coming towards them fast. He shuffled over to Vince on his knees and then paused at his side hopelessly, not knowing what to do. He settled for pulling off his blue shirt and wrapping it around Vince's waist, trying desperately to stop the heavy bleeding. Vince's cries had grown weaker, and his eyelids were fluttering.

The footsteps stopped, and Howard glanced up to see Naboo standing over him, frowning anxiously.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" Howard shouted at the shaman, keeping his shirt tight over Vince's stomach, even though it was now almost sodden with blood.

"Sorry Howard, carpet got a puncture. Went to see the Shaman Council, couldn't get there – so we turned back. Had to get the carpet fixed on the way." He fixed Bollo with a deadly stare. "None of this would've happened if I'd got an upgrade," he muttered.

"Told you I had a bad feeling," Bollo mumbled.

"No you didn't you idiot. You never said a thing."

Bollo muttered incoherently at the ground.

"Yeah, guys, can we do this later?" Howard said. "We need to get Vince to a hospital, and fast."

He leant over Vince and hefted him into his arms.

"Better let Bollo do that, Howard," Naboo said, but Howard glared at him so fiercely he took a step back.

"_No-one_ touches him. All right?"

Naboo nodded, something different in his eyes as he looked at Howard, then turned to his ape familiar.

"Bollo, do something useful will ya? Sort out that ballbag." He gestured at Pete, who was still lying moaning on the floor, clutching at his shoulder.

Bollo grunted and slung Pete over his shoulder, almost violently, not blinking an eye at Pete's agonised yell.

Howard started striding towards the door, then turned and looked quickly back at Naboo.

"Where did you get a gun from?" he asked, nodding his head at the firearm hanging loosely from Naboo's hand.

"Found it in my bag," the shaman deadpanned.

It showed how used Howard had become to living with Naboo, because he didn't bat an eyelid, just turned on his heel and started heading towards the door again, Naboo and Bollo following at his heels.

Once on the carpet Naboo tried to persuade Howard to put his shirt back on.

"You'll freeze, Howard."

Howard didn't even look at him. "I've got my vest," he said, keeping the shirt wrapped tightly around Vince's waist. This was true. Howard never went anywhere without his trusty white vest, not even to a club. Naboo wisely decided not to push the matter.

This wasn't how Howard had wanted to spend his return journey. He'd wanted Vince to be sitting beside him, perhaps checking his reflection in his mirror, talking non-stop to Howard about how this had been one of their best adventures _ever_. Not him sitting cross-legged, Vince's body slumped in his lap. He clutched Vince tighter to him, and brushed a blood-soaked tendril of black hair off his forehead. Vince was very nearly unconscious by the looks of things, and his breathing had slowed dramatically. This should have been the adventure where Howard saved Vince's life. It had nearly always been the other way around. Howard felt guilt stab through him. _I should have saved him_, he thought. _He trusted me to save him, and I failed._ He drew his boyfriend's body closer, so that Vince was sitting in his lap, his arm supporting Vince's back.

"Hold on, Vince," Howard, muttered brokenly. "Hold on. We're getting you to a hospital. We're gonna make you better. You're gonna kill us when you wake up and realise you're wearing one of those disgusting green hospital gowns." Howard's tears were falling onto Vince now, splattering on his face and arms.

Something about Howard's voice must have stirred something in Vince, because he shifted slightly, and his eyes opened wider.

"H-Howard?" he stuttered, desperately trying to draw in breath.

Hope lit in Howard's eyes.

"Vince! Stay with me, keep talking if you can."

"Howard, I – I love you," Vince murmured, his eyes beginning to close.

"Vince, no!" Howard frantically shook Vince's slender body. Vince's eyes closed, and his head drooped back over Howard's arm.

Naboo looked around from the front of the carpet.

"Pulse, Howard! Check his pulse!" Fingers fumbling, Howard located Vince's wrist, and pressed down. There it was. Thank God. Faint, but definitely there.

"We need to hurry Naboo," he said.

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They landed in a dark corner of the hospital carpark. Although it was the early hours of the morning, there were still people milling about at the entrance, and Naboo didn't think it was wise to land in front of them on a magic carpet. Once again Howard scooped up Vince, and ran with him towards the doorway. Bollo slung Pete over his shoulder. Pete groaned in pain, and Bollo snorted.

"You shut up. You lucky Naboo didn't kill you. It what you deserve for hurting precious Vince."

Howard had reached the check-in desk, gasping for breath. The woman behind the counter, who had dirty blond hair and large round glasses goggled at the sight of a tall, moustachioed man in a blood spattered white vest holding a much smaller, unconscious man in what looked like some sort of glittery suit, which was also soaked in blood. She moved her chair back slightly.

"Please. It's my boyfriend. He's been shot... twice, I think. You've got to help him. It's an emergency!"

Without saying a word the receptionist grabbed her phone and started talking very quickly into it. She almost fell off her seat with shock when a few seconds later a very small man in a turban ran in, followed by a gorilla who had another wounded man slung over his back. The receptionist said another few words, paused, and then started gesticulating wildly, turning her back on the strange group at the counter.

Within ten minutes a team of doctors had arrived and wheeled Pete and Vince off into separate operating theatres. They seemed most concerned about Vince, muttering anxiously among themselves as they wheeled him off. Pete had a bullet wound to the shoulder, and that seemed to be about all that was wrong with him, but Vince had lost a lot of blood from two wounds, and was in a far more critical state.

**Four Hours Later**

Naboo wandered outside the hospital, and spotted Howard sitting on a bench near the carpark, staring blankly in front of him. He had a half-smoked cigarette in his hand, and, as Naboo watched, raised it to his lips and inhaled. Naboo walked over to him as Howard started coughing.

He sat down next to him on the bench. Neither of them looked at each other and sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Didn't know you smoked," Naboo said at last.

Howard looked at him, then looked away.

"Needed something to do with my hands," he muttered at last. "Coffee machine's run out of cups." Naboo winced at Howard's tone, it was bleak and empty. When Howard had turned to him Naboo was worried to see that his eyes were dead and dull. He was scared that it had started to happen already. The bond was growing weaker and weaker, and with every minute that passed Howard seemed more like an empty husk than a real man.

The nurse had told them about an hour ago that Pete Moss was in no danger, and should make a full recovery. She'd been a bit surprised at the reaction, the tall man with the moustache had turned away and the man with the turban had simply shrugged.

"_Are any of you related at all to Mr Moss?" she'd asked, puzzled. This prompted a peculiar reaction. The man with the turban and the gorilla looked worriedly at the other man, who let out a slightly manic high pitched laugh._

"_You could say that I am," the man had said. "Apparently we're twins." _

_The nurse was confused, but she saw all sorts in her job, so decided to say nothing._

"_Well, as I said, Mr, um... Mr..."_

"_Moon. Howard Moon."_

"_Yes, well, Mr Moon, he should make a full recovery. Mr Vincent Noir, on the other hand..." she paused, flicking through her notes. She looked up to see the tall man standing very close to her, tears forming in the corners of his small brown eyes._

"_Yes? Is he okay? How long is he going to be in there? Can I see him?" This was more of the reaction she was used to. Back on familiar territory she glanced at her notes._

"_Well, Mr Moon, I'm not going to deny that Mr Noir was in a very bad way when you bought him in. He's lost a significant amount of blood and there are a number of internal injuries, including a few broken ribs. The doctors are working as hard as they can, but he'll be in there for a while, I'm afraid. You should go home and get some rest."_

_The man had slumped into himself upon hearing the news, and suddenly looked a lot smaller. His voice, when he spoke, was near to breaking._

"_No. No, I'll just... I'll just go and get some more coffee... I think..." And with that he'd wandered off down the corridor. The other man had hurried after him, and the gorilla had vanished. The nurse shook her head, and went back to work._

Howard stared at the tip of his cigarette, glowing in the early morning light. Birds were starting their usual wake-up chorus, and the leaves in the trees above the carpark waved gently. Howard had never understood how Vince could smoke, how he could stand it, but taking another drag, he thought he was beginning to realise. It gave him something to do, something to focus on. And strangely enough, it was making him feel a little calmer. He felt Naboo's hand touch his arm gently.

"We should go back inside, Howard. Your vest is very thin." He glanced down at himself. Oh yes, he was still wearing the blood spattered vest. Suddenly aware that it was quite cold outside he shivered. Stubbing out his cigarette on the ground he allowed himself to be led back into the lobby of the hospital.

As soon as they walked in, they saw the nurse they'd talked to earlier heading their way briskly. She caught sight of them and smiled.

"Mr Moon? Mr..."

"Naboo."

"Mr... Naboo, if I could have a word." She reached them, and smiled up at Howard. "Doctors finished operating on Mr Noir half an hour ago. We tried to find you, but we didn't know where you'd gone. He's now stable and conscious, and you can go in and see him if you..." She didn't get to finish her sentence. Howard was already halfway down the corridor. "Ward Seven!" she shouted after him, grinning. She turned to Naboo, who was still standing there, a small smile on his face.

"Mr Naboo? If I could have a word about Mr Moss?" The smile slipped from Naboo's face.

"What about him?" he asked in a careless tone.

"Well, he's fully recovered now, and we need the bedspace so..."

Naboo looked at her steadily. "Phone the police, please. He'll need to be questioned and arrested." The nurse looked at him, and then slowly nodded her head in understanding.

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Howard burst into Ward Seven, and spotted Vince immediately. He was lying in the bed at the far end, looking frail and delicate. Howard saw Vince turn his head to see what the disturbance was, and saw those big blue eyes light up in delight. Tripping and stumbling in his eagerness, Howard reached the bedside.

"Vince! How are you feeling? Oh, thank _God_ you're okay, I've been going out of my mind!"

"Nothing unusual there." Vince's voice was quiet and breathy, but there was an undertone of laughter. Howard scanned Vince's face. It was still pale, but there was a tinge of pink in the cheeks. The nurses had washed the blood out of Vince's hair, and now it lay soft and clean on the pillows around his head. Howard sat down on the chair beside the bed, and started stroking the dark locks almost on autopilot. Vince grinned weakly.

"Look at me, I'm a mess! My hair hasn't been this flat since I was born, and as for this outfit..." he plucked at the green gown, "hospital patient chic hasn't been in for weeks!"

"Vince, after what you've just been through, I'm sure people will forgive you." They smiled at each other.

"Thanks for rescuing me Howard," Vince said, clutching Howard's hand.

"No problem, little man. Anytime." Howard leant forward, and pressed a kiss to Vince's lips. Vince's hand cupped Howard's cheek, and he drew him in closer. They kissed gently and tenderly, pouring out all the pain, anguish and heartbreak. Finally Howard broke away, and resumed stroking Vince's hair. Vince snuggled deeper into his pillow.

"Mmm. Feels good, Howard." Howard chuckled to himself, watching as his boyfriend slipped back into sleep. He sat there for a while, watching Vince's chest rise and fall slowly and regularly. He pressed a kiss to Vince's forehead and quietly left the ward to go and find Naboo. They had a situation to deal with, and it wasn't going to be pleasant.

**So, that's the end of this chapter. Not entirely sure how it turned out – I had writer's block for ages, and this was the result. Sorry if it's rubbish. Please review anyway! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Big, big, big, HUGE apologies! I went on holiday for two weeks just after I finished the last chapter, and I've been working fulltime in an office ever since I got back. So I was usually feeling too tired to do anything apart from go to sleep in the evenings! Also had birthday celebrations to deal with etc, so I'm very sorry. But here it is! The last chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine. Lyrics belong to Lily Allen. Apart from Pete – forgot to mention that in previous chapters! He is mine – unfortunately.**

Howard Moon lay in bed, his arms crossed over his head. Early morning light was seeping through the chink in the bedroom curtains. He was contemplating how different his life had become since that horrible night four weeks ago. He glanced down at his right hand side, and saw Vince Noir, still deep in sleep, curled up in a foetal position, one pale arm flung across Howard's broad chest. Absent-mindedly Howard moved his arm, and started stroking Vince's dark hair away from his forehead. Suddenly such a powerful rush of love coursed through him that he actually had to take a few deep breaths. Vince's face was relaxed and happy in sleep, the tensions of the past few weeks all smoothed away. He'd got out of hospital within a week, once he'd had a blood transfusion to replace all that he'd lost. Howard reflected that it was damned lucky they'd had a supply of the right blood type at the hospital. Now all the physical remains of his ordeal were scars on his stomach and shoulder where Pete's bullets had entered his body, and still fading bruises on his face and torso. His rib had taken a little longer to heal up. But Vince was a little different from the carefree man he had been. Whenever they were out on the street and someone slammed a door, or a car backfired, any loud noise, he flinched, and his blue eyes darkened with fear. Then he'd glance ashamedly at Howard and paste a huge smile back onto his face, chattering nineteen to the dozen again. He hadn't gone out without Howard since the attack, and had lost touch with most of his friends, except Leroy. His sunny confidence had taken a severe knock, and Howard wondered whether he'd ever fully get it back again. Tiny little disagreements that he and Vince had made Vince lose it instantly, becoming moody and unreasonable. Just thinking about it made Howard's fist curl in anger. Pete had done this. Pete had made Vince so terrified that he was a shadow of his former self. Howard felt ashamed even thinking it, but he wished that Pete had died. That would have been some sort of proper payback. Instead he'd just been jailed for twenty years for attempted murder and grievous bodily harm. And Pete had been with the group of thugs who'd attacked Vince in the alleyway. Howard didn't think he'd ever forget seeing Vince curled up on the freezing ground like that.

Next to him Vince stirred, and his eyes flickered open, fixing on Howard's face.

"Mornin' Howard."

"Morning, little man. How're you feeling?"

"Good. Hungry. Have we got any jelly worms left?" Howard grinned and swung his legs out of bed, placing a kiss against Vince's temple.

"You can have all the jelly worms you'd like my love." Vince fell back into the pillows, a happy smile creasing his face.

"Genius."

Howard padded out of the bedroom and into the living room, idly flicking on the television as he did so. Nothing of interest on it though, so he went into the kitchen and started making Vince's breakfast. As he was turning to throw away the teabag from Vince's mug of tea, his eye caught sight of the mail from yesterday, lying on the living room table. He hadn't really looked at it, just picked it up and dumped it. But now he wandered over, and picked up the letter that had caught his attention.

His breath hitched in his throat. It was a prison visitation request. Pete wanted him to visit him in prison.

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Vince lay in bed, curled up with his slim arms clasped around Howard's pillow. His face was buried deep, breathing in Howard's comforting scent. He was feeling good this morning, better than he had in a long time. Howard had been so supportive, he'd put up with his mood swings, that Vince was aware he was having but seemed to be unable to stop, and his newly developed clinginess. Howard had left him for four days in the care of Naboo and Bollo while he went up to Leeds to explain things to his mother, and it had almost torn Vince apart. No matter what Naboo or Bollo did to try and cheer him up, they just weren't Howard. It wasn't the same.

For the first time in weeks, Vince swung his legs out of bed and moved immediately to heat up his straighteners. He hummed to himself as he organised his dark hair. Oh yes. He'd forgotten how fun this was. Oh, but that bit of hair wasn't right. Better do it again. Oh no, now _that_ bit was sticking up funny. He looked ridiculous. Right. Start from the top. An hour later and Vince was finally satisfied with his hair. Then he turned his attention to his wardrobe. For the past few weeks he'd been slobbing around in a large T-shirt of Howard's that drowned him, and his oldest pair of baggy tracksuits. Now his large blue eyes gleamed in pleasure as he surveyed his clothes. He'd missed this.

Once he was dressed, an hour and a half later, Vince's thoughts turned to Howard. Wasn't he supposed to be getting him breakfast? Just how long did jelly worms take to prepare? It had gone awfully quiet in the other room.

He threw open the bedroom door, and spotted Howard sitting on the sofa, a piece of paper in his lap. He bounded over, and plonked himself down right on top of his boyfriend, snuggling into his shoulder.

"Thought you were supposed to be making me breakfast?" he murmured into Howard's ear, fiddling with the fine brown curls of Howard's hair.

"Sorry Vince, got a bit distracted." Vince took note of Howard's tone. He sat back, and looked at him properly.

"What's the matter?" Howard looked at him. Vince could see he was debating whether or not to tell him the truth.

"Don't worry, I can handle it. I feel loads better today. C'mon. What's up?"

Slowly, Howard handed him the slightly scrunched piece of paper.

"It's a prison visitation request. Pete wants me to see him." Vince swallowed, but his eyes held Howard's.

"What you gonna do?"

"Well, I don't know. What do you think?"

"It's not my letter, Howard, it's yours. He is your brother, after all, even though he's a raving psychopath. Will you regret it if you don't go and see him?" Howard gaped at Vince. His boyfriend had sounded so mature and grown-up. Vince's serious face stared back at him. "Oooh, wait for it though, Howard. Just gotta go and get my jelly worms." And with that Vince had darted off his lap and headed towards the cupboard where he knew the sweets to be. Howard shook his head and chuckled to himself. Good to see that some things never changed.

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It was the next day, and Howard had decided. He was going to go and see Pete in prison. It would be interesting to hear what he had to say in defence of all the awful things he'd done. _If_ he said anything in defence, that was.

In their bedroom, Howard fidgeted nervously with his orange tie.

"D'you think I look okay?" he asked.

Vince stood in the corner of the room, a slightly tortured expression on his pretty face. Howard glared at him.

"_What?_ What's wrong with it?"

Vince cleared his throat, and tossed his dark fringe out of his eyes.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with it, Howard, it's just... well... it's..."

Howard's small brown eyes narrowed. "Spit it out."

"It's _ugly_, Howard! You can't wear that, you just can't!" Vince wailed.

"What do you mean, ugly? This is man's finest yellow and brown tartan material, I'll have you know sir. And the tie, I feel, gives it a certain edge."

Vince rolled his eyes and wandered over to Howard. "You know you can always wear whatever you feel comfortable in, Howard. But you gotta know that the combo you've got on really doesn't work. Why are you making such an effort? Just go in your normal creepy rollneck and cords." Howard blinked, ignoring the reference to his style being creepy.

"You're right, Vince. I'm going to go and dig out my special nutmeg cords." Vince grinned, and fiddled with his fringe as he watched Howard hop around, trying to take off the suit trousers and get into his cords.

"You know you look hot like that." Vince smiled as Howard glanced up, bent double whilst trying to force his right leg into the cords.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. If anyone in the room looked hot, it was Vince, for certain. He was wearing white skinny jeans with a tight, slashed purple top and a leapard-print coat. His hair was fluffed out around his face, and he'd put on one of his favourite white fedoras. Vince sauntered across the bedroom, and wrapped his arms around Howard's waist.

"You _do_ look hot," he muttered, and pressed a kiss against Howard's lips. Howard let his cords go, and pulled Vince closer into the hug, kissing him back. After a few seconds Howard pulled back slightly, and looked Vince in the eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay with me going? I can stay here if you want. But Bollo and Naboo'll be round in a bit..." He trailed off. Vince smiled slightly, and tightened his arms around Howard's waist.

"I'll be fine, Howard. Don't worry bout it. I feel sorta like... like something's been lifted from me. Does that make sense? I feel happier. In fact, I gotta get down to Topshop soon, they've got loads of genius new stuff in – I don't wanna get left behind do I? _Someone's _got to be fashionable in this relationship."

Howard smiled back at him, ignoring the jibe. "Okay. If you're sure. I won't be back late, no later than half seven, okay?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vince spent a happy three hours after Howard left flicking through his old copies of Cheekbone and laughing at all the ridiculous fashions that had been in style a few months ago. God, he _remembered_ wearing that full blown clown suit. It had been really uncomfortable, particularly as it had been in during one of the hottest summers on record. He still had it, actually, tucked away at the back of his wardrobe.

Bollo and Naboo were slumped on the sofa, too stoned to do anything but mutter nonsense words to each other and then laugh hysterically. Well, Naboo laughed. Bollo just grunted. Vince wandered over to his laptop in the corner of the room and logged onto the Topshop website. He was just admiring some new platform boots when he heard the door go downstairs. He glanced at his watch, confused. He wasn't expecting Howard back for ages. He turned around as his boyfriend appeared at the top of the stairs. Howard's face was grim and unsmiling.

"Howard? You okay? I didn't think you'd be back for ages! How'd it go? What did he say? Did he talk about me? I bet he did, didn't he? Howard? Howard?"

"Vince! Just... just give me a minute okay? Let me get my breath." Vince fell silent, his bottom lip wobbling slightly. There was quiet in the room for about a minute. Vince twirled awkwardly on his chair, while Howard merely stood at the top of the stairs, one hand resting on the bannister, apparently deep in thought.

"D'you want a cup of tea?" Vince asked eventually, in a meek voice. Howard jerked, startled.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, little man," he said absently. Vince started boiling the kettle, and getting out teabags and mugs, glancing anxiously at Howard every once in a while. As he was pouring the water, he saw Howard move across the room and join him. Howard stood behind him and slipped his arms around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder, nuzzling into it slightly.

"I'm sorry I snapped. It's just. Well. I'll tell you when those two have gone. If they even have enough brain cells left to move." Vince didn't say anything. He put the kettle down and just enjoyed standing there with Howard holding him. They must have stayed like that for about five minutes. Howard didn't appear to want to let him go.

Finally Vince managed to twist around. "Your tea's gettin' cold," he said softly. Howard blinked.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks Vince."

They curled up on the sofa together, watching Colobos re-runs. Naboo and Bollo got up after about half an hour and decided to stagger home.

"You two okay here, yeah?" Naboo asked, slurring his words slightly. Howard glanced up.

"Yes, Naboo, thank you. We're fine."

"Hey, Howard, you go prison today?" Bollo muttered.

"Yep. See ya Bollo."

Bollo headed towards the door, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'idiot' under his breath.

As he reached the stairs Naboo turned round.

"Just wanted ya to know, Howard, that violence is _never_ the answer. We should all live in peace and harmony with each other." He wagged a finger admonishingly about two centimetres away from his face.

Howard and Vince glanced at each other. Vince rolled his eyes, and grinned.

"Yep. See you tomorrow Naboo."

"Awright."

As soon as they had shuffled off down the stairs and crashed out the door, Vince turned to Howard.

"So? What happened at the prison?" Howard took a minute to answer.

"Well, I got there and had to wait for a bit." Vince nodded. "There were a few other people waiting there too. They all looked incredibly miserable. Well, I suppose you would." Vince nodded again. "Anyway, I got in to see Pete. You have to sit on a chair one side of the glass wall, and they sit on the other. You get a phone to talk to them..."

"I _know_ Howard, I have seen The Bill, you know. What did he say?"

Howard sighed heavily. He flicked an anxious glance at Vince.

"He, well, he, um, he asked how I was. I told him I was doing well, under the circumstances. Then he said he'd been seeing the prison psychologist. Getting therapy, you know."

Vince nodded and muttered, "He needs it."

"Yeah. So he seemed calm. Wouldn't say he was exactly friendly. Anyway, then he, he asked why I'd come by myself..." It seemed Howard had finally come to what had been bugging him all evening. He took a deep breath. "He wants you to come and see him with me, Vince." Vince swallowed, eyes wide. Howard plunged on. "Of course I told him it was out of the question. I said _no way_, not after what you tried to do to him. What, does he think I'm insane? That he could even _think_ to presume that..."

"I'll go."

"... you'd go and see him. He's disturbed though, Vince, we mustn't forget that, no sir..."

"Howard."

"... but even so, I mean it's taking the piss. So I definitely put the record straight that he was delusional if he ever thought..."

"_Howard_."

"... you'd ever set eyes on him again, or that I'd let him..."

"HOWARD!"

"What?"

"I said I'll go."

Howard blinked. "What?"

"I'll go. I think I need to. It's, it's, what do they call it, cl... clos..."

"Closure?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Howard looked at him anxiously, and timidly put a hand on his leg.

"You, you don't think it's too soon? Maybe in another couple of weeks, or a month..."

"No, Howard. I want to go. I'll finally be able to put it all behind me then. I'll go and see what he has to say, and it'll be finished. Over. Okay?"

Howard gazed at his boyfriend. Vince's face was pale, paler than it usually was, but his eyes and voice were steady. He'd grown up a lot in such a short space of time. Howard squeezed Vince's thigh affectionately.

"Okay. We'll go at the weekend. I'll arrange another visit."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vince sat nervously on the hard plastic chair in the waiting room, his hand clasped tightly in Howard's. He'd spent days planning his outfit for today, and he was proud of the results. The predominant colours were black, white and blue, to fit in with the prison. He'd gone for his white flared bootleg trousers which had a slash up to the knee in either leg. Blue sparkly material had been sewn into the gap. His boots, the new ones from Topshop, were black with little blue stars etched deep into the leather, and they gave him a good few inches extra height. The figure-hugging, tight black top with white swirls was off the shoulder, and the sleeves came right down to his wrists. Perched on his head was his jaunty blue velvet hat. He was getting a good few stares from the other people waiting, they were dressed mainly in dark colours, they obviously didn't think a prison was the correct place for wearing colour.

Howard kept stroking his hand, and whispering little words of encouragement into his ear, but Vince wished he wouldn't. It was just making him more nervous. He knew he had to do this though. He couldn't let his last memory of Pete be one where he was standing over him with a loaded gun aimed at him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first thing Vince saw when he walked in with Howard was Pete's cold grey eyes staring straight at him. They were just as menacing and hate-filled as when he'd first met him. Vince gulped. Howard squeezed his hand, and they sat down in front of the glass.

Pete picked up the phone on his end, and motioned to Howard to do the same. Although he was talking to Howard, his eyes remained fixated on Vince. Howard noticed this and slipped an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders.

"Um, Vince, he wants to speak to you, alone, he says. Is that okay? I'll stay here if you want me to, no problem." Vince stared into Pete's eyes, then turned to Howard, his voice shook a little.

"Yeah, I'll speak to him. But wait outside the door, yeah? Don't go anywhere else." Howard shook his head vehemently.

"I won't. I'll stay right there, I promise. Even if I need the loo I'll hold it in till I wet myself." Vince smiled a little.

"Cheers Howard."

Howard got up, threw a warning look at Pete, squeezed Vince's shoulder briefly, and then left the room. Vince turned back to the partition separating him and the man who'd tried to kill him. Pete looked the same as ever, maybe a little thinner. With a hand that only shook a little, Vince picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

"Nice outfit, Vince."

"Cheers. Not too bad yourself, although it's tough that the prison inmate look is out right now."

Pete grimaced through the glass. "Stop with the wisecracks and all the poofy comments, okay?" He surveyed Vince through the glass.

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd come. Didn't think you'd have the balls."

"It doesn't take balls to meet you, Pete. You're not nearly as big an' tough as you'd like to think you are."

"Look, you little poof. There are a few things I need to get straight with you. One, I still think that you're a freak of nature who doesn't belong in this world, Two, I will always hate you for the relationship you've got with Howard. He cares about you a lot, and that really pisses me off. But since I've been taking counselling here I've realised that the problem isn't actually with you, it's with my bitch of a mother. I've got 'abandonment issues' apparently, it's something I need to work on. What I really want to say is, I don't understand you and all your kind, but, well, look after my brother for me, won't you?"

Vince sat, slightly open-mouthed, on the other side of the screen. The look in Pete's eyes was intense. Vince realised that Pete did actually love Howard a great deal, it was just that his feelings had come out in a really twisted fashion. Vince knew he was never, ever going to be worth anything in Pete's eyes, but Pete had clearly realised that Vince meant everything to Howard. That made a difference. Vince swallowed.

"Yeah, awright. See ya."

"Right, bye," Pete muttered, staring at the counter-top.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The flat was totally quiet when they got back in. Vince had spent the journey sunk in an uncharacteristic silence. He'd told Howard the basis of what had happened with Pete, including the bit about looking after him. Howard had been deeply affronted.

"What? Look after me? I don't need looking after, no sir, Howard Moon relies on himself and only himself..."

"Right. I'll remember that when you get yourself into another life-threatening situation and want me to dig you out of it. Remember, if it wasn't for me you'd be Mrs Gregg!"

Howard had turned a pale shade of green and had shut up.

As they let themselves into their flat, Howard suddenly had an idea.

"Hey, Vince, you up for some music tonight? We can muck around like we used to, it'll be fun!"

Vince pulled a face. "Howard Moon? Suggesting an evening of fun? Quick, call the emergency services..." He had to break off as Howard had begun tickling him mercilessly. Eventually he collapsed onto the sofa, a giggling wreck. "Okay, okay! Stop, stop! We'll listen to some music, fine! Just not jazz, okay? I'm still not well enough for that." He pulled an invalid face.

"No, not jazz. I had another idea." Howard went into their bedroom, and most unusually for him, started riffling around in Vince's stack of CDs. He'd heard one particular song that he thought would be great for Vince to let rip to. Aha.

He walked back into the living room with the CD clasped in his hand. Vince peered at the cover.

"Lily Allen? Howard, you gone mental or sommat?"

"Just listen, Vince, and let rip!"

There was a pause as the CD player booted up. Then a carnival-esque tune started up.

_Look inside_

_Look inside your tiny mind_

_Then look a bit harder_

"Genius Howard!" Vince called out, from the sofa. Howard grinned.

_Cause we're so uninspired_

_So sick and tired_

_Of all the hatred you harbour_

Howard pulled Vince up off the sofa, and the younger man started prancing around the living room, holding up a hairbrush from the side as an imaginary microphone.

_So you say_

_It's not okay to be gay_

_Well I think you're just evil_

_You're just some racist_

_Who can't tie my laces_

_Your point of view is medieval_

"Get ready for the chorus, Vince!" Howard shouted. Vince laughed from across the other side of the room, and jumped up onto the sofa.

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you very, very much_

_Cause we hate what you do_

_And we hate your whole crew_

_So please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you very, very much_

_Cause your words don't translate_

_And it's getting quite late_

_So please don't stay in touch_

Vince got off the sofa, and Howard pulled him into a hug. They danced around the living room together, belting out the words with real feeling, both of them laughing at the same time.

_Do you_

_Do you get a little kick _

_Out of being small-minded?_

_You want to be like your father_

_It's approval you're after_

_Well that's not how you find it_

_Do you_

_Do you really enjoy living a life_

_That's so hateful?_

_Cause there's a hole where your soul should be_

_You're losing control a bit_

_And it's really distasteful_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you very, very much_

_Cause we hate what you do_

_And we hate your whole crew_

_So please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you very, very much_

_Cause your words don't translate_

_And it's getting quite late_

_So please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you, fuck you)_

_Fuck you (Fuck you, fuck you)_

_Fuck you_

Vince was really getting into the chorus. Howard laughed as he watched Vince flick his hair about and mime flipping the finger at Pete.

_You say_

_You think we need to go to war_

_Well you're already in one_

_Cause it's people like you_

_That need to get slew_

_No one wants your opinion_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you very, very much_

_Cause we hate what you do_

_And we hate your whole crew_

_So please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you very, very much_

_Cause your words don't translate_

_And it's getting quite late_

_So please don't stay in touch_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

_Fuck you (Fuck you)_

Howard and Vince collapsed on the sofa laughing hysterically, wiping tears from their eyes.

**Six Years Later**

Vince staggered into the lounge, cradling a Barcardi Breezer in one hand and a large glass of red wine in the other.

"Ugh, thank God," he said. "I'm knackered."

"Don't be stupid," his husband returned good-naturedly. "You love it."

"True." Vince sat down on the sofa beside Howard and cuddled up, handing the wine to him.

"Anything good on tele?"

"Nah. I could do with an early night, though." Vince looked up. He knew what that look and tone of voice meant.

"Oh, but I'm so tired," he mock-whined, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Too tired for this, my darling?" Howard murmured, running his hand over his husband's lap. Vince inhaled sharply, almost tipping his bacardi over himself.

"It's a good thing that Carmel sleeps so deeply," Vince muttered, his breath hitching as Howard's hand crept up the waistband of his jeans. "I wouldn't like having to explain this to a three-year-old."

Howard worked his hand inside Vince's jeans. "You're doing the sex talk though. You'd be far better at it than I am, plus, you're more like a girl." Vince didn't have enough power left in his brain to organize a coherent comeback. Instead he merely gasped slightly as Howard started to play with his quickly hardening package.

"Well, she'll need me to learn how to accessorise, that's true." Howard took his hand out of his husband's trousers, and stood up, holding his glass.

"Come on Mr Moon. Bedtime. Let's check on Carmel before we go." Together they crossed to the door of the spare bedroom, opened it a crack and peeped in. The room was a riot of pink decoration, piles of cuddly toys, barbies and glittery hair accessories in either pink or purple. Fast asleep in the bed with 'Princess' emblazoned across the side was a tiny three-year-old girl with fluffy black hair and pale skin. When she was awake, you could see her eyes were almost the exact same shade of brown as Howard's.

Together Howard and Vince shut the door to their adopted daughter's room, and crossed to their own, shutting the door gently behind them.

**That is it, my friends! Fin. Finito. Finished! What did you think? Please review, it took me ages to think how to come up with an ending. Sorry if it's too mushy for some of you, I just couldn't resist. Oh, and thank you to brokenmoonlight for your review, I know that scene could have done with a bit of work, but I did write it in a hurry! But it's always good to have constructive criticism, so thank you (big fan of your stuff by the way!) Lyrics belong to Lily Allen's 'Fuck You' – an absolutely brilliant song, if you haven't heard it **_**listen**_** to it! I was listening to it at work today and it just seemed the perfect song to sum it all up!**


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